The Gangster and the Showboy
by thesuttonian
Summary: This is an AU fic. It will have a few chapters. It is a Stendan fic, but there is also some Stalker in there just to warn you. The clue is in the title really, it's Hollyoaks, but not entirely as you know it. Rated M because I do like me boys!
1. The Blue Moon

This will be an on-going story. Not entirely sure of the number of chapters as yet. It is AU, but set in the Hollyoaks Universe. I do not own any of the characters, they belong to the good people at Lime. Please leave me a review if you have the time!

Hollyoaks Village. Sometime… never…

Early evening. Late July. From the alleyway, the faint sound of laughter and chatter can be heard. The sun is setting in the sky; this is when this place takes on a whole different complexion. People are drawn here, seeking out the delights that the village offers. Promises.

Leaving the alley and emerging now, the sounds have muffled to a low hum, a throb that indicates that there is life here, but it is hidden from view. To experience it, is going to mean to seek it out. The large doors that are in front stand bold and at the top of them the sign of blue neon splutters to life. The darkness is marching forward now; it touches everything. The sign crackles and 'The Blue Moon' glows in the night's sky. A saxophone begins its drawl, slow and bluesy in the summer night air. It's inviting, intoxicating. A young couple walk up to the club and they are met by a suited man. He looks them over and pushes open the door allowing them the access they crave.

The club is split on two levels, everywhere there are people. Most are customers, some are workers. On the ground floor there are round tables, sheathed in white cloths with blue trim, dotted all around. Waiters and waitresses bustle back and forth holding trays and carrying drinks and food. 'Hey, Barney, you got my order for table 6?' a voice cries out and the young bartender behind the bar shakes his curly hair before smiling and answering, 'All ready.' The mood appears relaxed. People are dining and drinking, but every table has its own tale to tell, its secrets to conceal.

Moving up the metal steps, the first thing that comes into view is the small stage to the rear of the club. The female singer, who is swaying as the saxophone plays, holds her final note perfectly. She is beautiful, long dark hair with stunning brown eyes. The red dress that she is wearing is moulded to her body, displaying every ravishing curve. Mercy McQueen, but do not be fooled by her name, she rarely shows any. As the song's music swells to its end she speaks low and sultry into the microphone, "Thank you." A smattering of applause breaks out amongst the patrons. The truth is, they are not here for the brunette. She is not the main attraction tonight, or any other night. They are here for him. Every poster proclaims his name, every poster carries his face and he is what brings people here. Stephen Hay. He is the star of the Blue Moon.

The lights on the stage dim and when they rise again they are distinctive shade of blue. The lone microphone stands in the centre of the spotlight that is now shining on the small stage. There is something in the air, anticipation. From behind the curtain he emerges. He is wearing a pale blue suit and white shirt. His top button is undone. He steps forward and in this light, his features glow and take on an ethereal quality. The music begins and a note is held "Blue moon…you saw me standing alone…" he begins to sigh into the microphone. It is immediately intimate. The whole crowd is transfixed as from under his eyelashes, Stephen raises his eyes. Blue diamonds. He grasps the microphone stand with one hand and begins to move in time to the music.

In the furthest corner, in the darkest shadows one man never takes his eyes off the stage. From here only the eyes are clearly visible and they are striking in their intensity. Flanked by two guards, it is clear that he is someone. A blonde waitress totters over on ridiculously high heels and places a drink from a tray down in front of the man. She is careful not to obscure his view of the stage. "Your drink, Mr Walker."

He looks down at it for a split second. "Thank you Theresa, just how I like it."

She smiles and retreats from the table, not too shy to give one of the heavies a little smile as she wiggles away. Simon Walker, owner of The Blue Moon, raises the drink to his lips. His hair is brown and longish, parted in the front. The suit he wears would cost most in here a month's salary or maybe more. He takes a sip of the drink and allows the taste to play on his tongue, his lips for a moment. Not once do his eyes leave the boy standing on the small stage.

To his right a man appears and whispers into the ear of one of his heavies. The beast of man acknowledges the message and bends down to relay the information to his boss. For the first time, Walker's attention is drawn from the stage. "What is it?" he snaps.

The man to his right is given permission to speak. "He wants to meet with you."

"I know."

"No, sooner. He is proposing tomorrow."

Walker ponders this change of events. He picks up his glass and takes another sip. "Ok. Tell him tomorrow. Here. 8 o'clock. Oh, and warn Mr Brady no funny business. We don't want a scene now, do we?" At this Walker looks to the heavy at his shoulder who pushes his jacket aside to reveal the gun that is nestling there.

The man heeds the warning and speaks quickly, "I will relay your message to Mr Brady." He turns and disappears quickly down the metal steps. Walker sighs at this intrusion. Turning back to the stage, Stephen's signature tune is finishing as he sings into the microphone, his voice little more than a whisper by the song's end. Walker feels himself harden. It never ceases to amaze him, the effect on him that this boy produces.

Stephen walks backstage and retreats to his small dressing room. "Great show tonight, Stephen." A voice comments as he walks by and "You sounded amazing." He speaks his thanks and smiles his gratitude before pushing his door open and sitting down in front of the mirror at his table. He doesn't wear much make up on stage, the truth is he doesn't need it, but he wears some, just to even out what he thinks are his imperfections: the small scar on his top lip and the small mole on his cheek. What he doesn't realise is that they are not imperfect at all: they are absolutely perfect and only add to his beauty. There is a slight tap at the door.

"Who is it?"

"Who do you think? Are you decent?"

"Yes," Stephen answers. "Of course."

Walker pushes the door open and steps inside. "What a shame."

Fixing his green eyes on Stephen, Stephen never fails to be enthralled by them. They are cat-like, hooded with dark lashes. They promise something that Stephen isn't always sure he can handle. He pouts a little and turns his face back to the mirror. "What do you want, Mr Walker?"

Walker moves closer and perches on the edge of the dressing table. He hasn't taken his eyes off Stephen's face. "Don't be like that, Stephen. I told you, I couldn't get away."

Stephen doesn't look at Walker, but just continues to rub his face with the cotton pad in his hand. He is trying not to notice the close proximity of Walker's crotch to his face. "Stephen?"

"Two hours I waited, not even a call! What am I to you, eh? Nothing?" His voice falters a little and he breathes heavily to regain his composure.

At this outburst, Walker hitches slightly forward and reaches his hand out to Stephen. Taking his chin lightly he turns the younger man's face to meet him. "I got held up on business. It was important. I couldn't phone. Let me make it up to you, later, ok?"

Stephen feels his resolve melting away as he stares into those eyes. Pouting once more, he manages to sound still a little annoyed. "And what would you wife have to say about that?"

Walker smirks a little, "Well, she's out of town visiting her sister, so we'll never know."

He's moved a little further forward, closing the gap between them. "Come on, Stephen." Dipping down, he places a kiss on Stephen's lips. At first, Stephen tries not to react, but his body betrays him. Slowly, he stands and moves himself towards Walker. Walker drops down from the dressing table and places his hands on Stephen's hips, pulling their bodies in close. Stephen can feel how hard he is and he groans, allowing Walker access to his mouth which he explores with his tongue before gently biting on Stephen's lower lip. Suddenly, Walker spins him around and pushes him hard against the dressing table. He takes a breath as Walker pushes up against him, bringing one hand to his throat whilst resting the other on his hip. Walker grinds into his arse causing Stephen to moan. "I'm going to fuck you all night, you want that?"

Stephen can hardly breathe. He looks into Walker's eyes reflected back at him in the mirror. His lips are parted as his breathing becomes shallower. "Yes." He sighs. A smile dances across Walker's lips.

"I have some business to take care of. Leave the door open, I'll be there about 1." Walker turns Stephen's face to him and kisses him deeply once more before turning and leaving.

Stephen looks at his own reflection in the mirror, his lips are kiss bruised. He sighs a little, unsure of what he is really feeling, but the fact is he knows that he will be waiting at 1 o'clock. Waiting for Walker to come to his bed…


	2. Stephen and Walker

Ok, here we go with Chapter 2. Heed the warnings, this is pure Stalker AND is very M so if neither is your thing, don't read. Just to be clear this is AU and so the characters are slightly different to the ones in the show. Brendan is on his way! Thank you so much for all the lovely reviews and please if you get a moment feel free to review and give me your comments. Hope you enjoy!

Hottest July in 50 years the TV has been proclaiming all week. It's a dry heat; it radiates off every surface and boils the blood. Usually when it's this hot, the evenings are cool in contrast. Not this year, if anything the evenings feel hotter, possibly more oppressive. Hollyoaks Village is a place where bad things can and do happen. In this heat, that likelihood is magnified.

Stephen Hay sits on his small balcony overlooking the village. The cigarette he is smoking is poised in his fingers: its tip burns red in the semi-darkness. Although it is late, well past midnight, the glow of the moon and the glow of the many lights below him cast a faint light all around. Stephen brings the cigarette to his lips, draws on it and then blows the smoke out slowly watching it curl and rise into the air. He is wearing nothing but an indigo blue, silk robe tied in tight at the waist. The colour is nothing short of perfect for him, accentuating his smooth golden skin and calling out the highlights in his light brown hair. He has come to stand on the balcony to smoke and try to cool down. After his set at the club tonight, he went out with a couple of the waitresses to get a bite to eat, Theresa and Leanne. He often goes with them to Il Gnosh, a small restaurant at the edge of the Village, to eat, drink a little and gossip. He'd then returned home and ran himself a long bath. It had been relaxing and he had luxuriated in the scented bubbles, but it had also warmed him and so he had ventured outside with a glass of wine and a cigarette.

Stephen smiles as he thinks about Theresa and Leanne and the fun they had this evening. Both were always trying to get him a little drunk, so he would talk with no inhibitions. However, neither had realised yet that Stephen could handle his drink, better than either of them, and so he'd stayed happily silent on anything to do with Walker whilst they had descended into giggling and shrieking. Before, there had been a larger group of them, who would go to the restaurant, but the last time this had happened it caused a problem. After eating someone had the idea that they should return to the club for a nightcap. Walker saw Stephen talking with one of the bartenders, Rob, and immediately jumped to the wrong conclusion. Walker had actually fired Rob on the spot and had to be restrained from doing more. He'd dragged Stephen angrily into his office. It had taken Stephen at least a half an hour to calm him and placate him. He'd finally convinced him that nothing was going on between them and Walker had relented. Rob got his job back. Although there was a part of Stephen that had been frightened of the jealous rage that had erupted in Walker, he could not deny there was a part of him that had liked it. More, it had turned him on. Stephen knew that it was wrong, to have enjoyed it, but he had never had anyone show such, what was it? Love, for him before. After, Walker had locked the door and they had had sex there on his desk. It was amazing. And although the whole incident should probably have made Stephen turn and run, he hadn't.

Stephen sips the drink in his hand and looks again at his watch, 12.45. As he runs a hand through his hair, he closes his eyes a little letting the cool breeze caress his face. He opens his eyes at the sound of a car door banging below him. He looks down briefly, but the car's engine splutters into life and soon it is pulling off away from the kerb. Stephen glances at the plants and pots on his small balcony. They might not be much, but they are his. As a child, his family could never afford a house with a garden and as an adult, he has neither the time nor the inclination for one either, but he loves his plants and flowers and tends them lovingly. The lavender he planted last year smells beautiful he muses. He takes another drag on the cigarette; Walker doesn't really like him smoking. He hasn't told him to stop exactly, but he always looks less than happy when Stephen does it. Maybe that is why he does it? Simon Walker, his boss. Simon Walker the owner of The Blue Moon. How long had he been Stephen's lover? Stephen considers the answer, a year now. Stephen glances out over the city as he considers what he and Walker have between them. He's not sure what it is if he is honest. Walker is married and so they're never going to be together in that way, or at least he thinks that's the case and anyway, would he really want that…He smiles as he thinks back to the start of things. Walker had bought The Blue Moon nearly two years ago now, and almost instantly he'd set about transforming it. Out went the cheap fixtures and fittings and in came the sophisticated Italian ones that now adorned the club. Right from the start it was clear that the new boss was not the same as the old one although very little was known about him. Stephen had sung at The Blue Moon on and off for about a year before Walker bought it. When Walker took over the club he had auditioned all the singers again. When it had been Stephen's turn he had felt nervous, not because of stage fright, but because Walker had stared intently at him throughout the whole song. Never once, it seemed looking away from him. Nothing happened between them for a long time. And then one night, after his set Walker had sent word to his dressing room that he wanted to speak with Stephen later, in his office, once the club had closed. He had gone to the office. In truth, he had suspected what was going to happen: he didn't think he was going to be sacked; he was one of the top attractions at the club. It really only left one possibility. His instincts had been right, after some small talk they had ended up having sex in Walker's office. That first time it was all over quite quickly, but as those who talk in clichés say, the rest was history. Thinking about it now Stephen realises how that was unusual for him, just sleeping with someone so quickly, but with Walker it had seemed inevitable. Once he had decided it was Stephen he wanted, it felt like nothing was going to stop it happening.

He doesn't make a sound, but Stephen senses Walker's presence behind him before he says a word.

"You made it then?"

Stephen turns to face Walker. He is still wearing his dark suit and white shirt, but has removed his tie and left his top button undone. He looks amazing, Stephen thinks. Handsome and dangerous.

"Of course. Am I late? It isn't 1 yet, is it?" He hasn't moved from his place in the doorway. He looks at Stephen, never seeming to blink.

"No, you're not late."

"So, do you forgive me then?"

Stephen cannot help himself and he answers teasingly, "I haven't decided yet, have I. Maybe?" He smiles.

Walker smiles back, he senses that Stephen is warming towards him. "I'll just have to help you make your mind up then, won't I?" He pushes himself off from the doorframe and approaches him now. He takes the cigarette from Stephen's hand and takes a long draw on it himself before flicking it over the balcony. He lifts his head and smoke cascades from his mouth. He steps closer to Stephen, almost backing him against the balcony railings; he takes the nearly finished glass from him and sips the final remaining liquid before he places it on the small table near the plants and pots.

"Well, you're not really convincing me." Stephen's voice is low.

"Maybe this will help." Walker bends in close and kisses Stephen lightly on the lips. He pulls back and a small smile plays on his lips. Stephen can taste cigarette and wine, but it's not unpleasant. He smiles back at Walker. Walker pulls him to him then and crashes their mouths together. His tongue pushes into Stephen's mouth making him moan and shudder. Walker pulls away and begins to kiss lightly down Stephen's neck. He pushes the silk of the robe aside and begins to kiss and bite at Stephen's exposed shoulder. Stephen feels goose bumps on his flesh and his body tingles. "You smell amazing," Walker breathes against him. "I want to lick every inch of you."

Stephen's head is swimming. It's not the wine as he's only had one glass. It's Walker. The things he does to Stephen, he is helpless to resist. Stephen snakes his hands around Walker's shoulders, they are broad and defined. The material of his jacket is pulled tight against him as he kisses and licks at Stephen's skin. Walker's hands move slowly down the front of the robe now and he pulls lightly on the tie to undo it. Stephen grabs the tie quickly. "I'm naked under here." his voice comes out breathlessly.

"Good." Walker grinds against him, his hardness pushing against Stephen.

"Someone might see." Stephen glances behind him over the balcony to emphasise the point.

"So? I want you. Now." Walker's voice is low and dangerous. Stephen feels his tummy tighten and he catches his breath.

"Take it off." Walker's voice is a seductive command. "I want to see you." He takes a step back and Stephen unties the robe fully before he lets it fall to the floor, pooling like water at his feet. Walker lets out a breath and Stephen himself breathes now, a breath he's sure he's been holding and he feels lightheaded as Walker steps towards him. Walker takes Stephen by his shoulders and pulling him towards him, their bodies flush together, he kisses him again hard and demanding. They stand like this for a moment and Stephen is aware of the contrasting sensations of the cold breeze that is dancing across his skin and the heat that is emanating from Walker as he kisses and touches him. "Turn around." Again Walker's voice is commanding. Without hesitation, Stephen turns and places his hands on the balcony rail. Walker trails a hand slowly down Stephen's spine before stopping just above his buttocks. His hand leaves Stephen's back for a moment and when it returns, Stephen feels a finger slowly circling his entrance. Teasingly slick and wet. Walker pushes it in and Stephen gasps and grips the balcony tighter. Walker works him slowly, opening him up. He works another finger into Stephen and Stephen shuts his eyes completely giving himself over to the sensations that Walker is making him feel. "Ready?" breathes Walker. Stephen nods his head, words not coming and Walker removes his fingers. Behind him, Stephen hears Walker unzipping his trousers and then feels the blunt weight against him. He breathes as Walker pushes into him in one fluid motion. Walker places his hands on Stephen's side and they both take a moment to adjust. "You feel fucking amazing," Walker's voice is jagged.

"So do you," answers Stephen, his voice barely above a whisper.

Walker pulls back and thrusts into Stephen. The pace he sets is fast and hard. With every stroke he hits the spot inside Stephen that makes him see stars. Stephen reaches round and grasps Walker's hip pulling him closer into him. Walker understands the unspoken need from him and adjusts his feet so he can thrust harder into Stephen's body. He moves his hand around Stephen and begins to jerk him off in time to his thrusts. Before long, Stephen is shouting Walker's name as he cums all over the balcony railings. Walker follows quickly after Stephen, shuddering as he falls forward, his forehead making contact with Stephen's back. His sweat slick hair sticking to Stephen's shoulders. "That was amazing." Walker's voice is hoarse and raspy. He pulls out of Stephen and turns him to face him once more. Stephen looks at Walker, he is all chiselled beauty in the moonlight, but there is a coldness to his features that anyone would be foolish to ignore. "Amazing." Walker repeats.

Later when they lie in bed, their sweat slicked bodies pulling apart once more Walker's face changes and he turns to Stephen with a serious look on his face. "Are you working a double shift tomorrow?"

Stephen raises himself onto one elbow and answers with a smile, "Yes, it's Friday. I always work a double set on Friday."

"Ok." Walker trails a finger down Stephen's chest as he speaks.

"Is there any particular reason why you're asking?" Stephen questions. Walker remains silent and turns on to his back, raising an arm above his head.

"Nothing for you to worry about, I'm meeting with someone. I'm just thinking out loud." Walker trails off as he speaks. Suddenly, he shifts and sits up in the bed reaching out for his trousers that are discarded on the floor.

"Are you going? I thought you said your wife was away. " Stephen speaks and silently reprimands himself as his voice sounds more whining than he'd meant to.

Walker's back tenses slightly, it's brief and then it's gone. "She is. I have some business to attend to in the morning." He turns and smiles at Stephen. "I wouldn't want to disturb your beauty sleep." With that he kisses Stephen lightly on the lips before dressing quickly and leaving. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Stephen fights to make his voice sound normal, "Yes, tomorrow."

He hears the door slam faintly as Walker leaves. He rolls on to his back then, looking up at the ceiling. A tear pricks his eye and he swipes it away. The tear isn't because Walker has left, he's used to that. The tear is for something else, something he's not quite ready to admit to himself.


	3. Mr Brady

Right, here we go. Hope this is ok for folks, ain't going to get too racy on their first meeting I'm afraid. Thanks everyone for all the lovely reviews and please let me know what you think if you get a moment. It has been really lovely to have so many lovely comments, really appreciate them!

The doors to the club are swung open. The heat necessitates this, although Walker stripped the place and redesigned its interior, one thing he could not install was air conditioning; the fabric of the building would not allow this. Friday night and the music filters through the air. Like fingers it reaches out, touches, caresses. It's hard not to be drawn forwards.

Stephen Hay stands on stage. The suit he wears is dark. His slender frame is accentuated by the tailoring of the jacket and trousers. He has undone the buttons of the jacket and the pale blue shirt he wears is open at the neck. Tonight is not a night for neckties. His hair is slicked back and his eyes shine out as he surveys the large crowd who have come to watch him. One hand hangs loosely at his side; his other holds the microphone in front of him as he sings into it. "You give me fever…" Stephen is mesmerising. As he sings, he is aware, is always aware that one pair of eyes in particular will be watching him intently. His skin tingles at this knowledge as he remembers last night. There is a pause as the music takes hold for a moment, swirling and building around him. He parts his lips and is lost for a moment in thought and memory. "What a lovely way to burn." Stephen never actually sees Walker as he performs, he is hidden by the shadows, but he is aware that he is there.

As his first set comes to an end, Stephen remembers Walker's words of last night, he is meeting someone tonight. Stephen wonders who for a moment. Whoever it is seems to have been on Walker's mind. He leaves the stage, but instead of walking to his dressing room decides he needs a drink and changes course towards the bar at the back of the club.

"Hey, Stephen, great set." The young bartender greets him as he approaches. He is new and an American, only been working there a few weeks. He is still a little nervous and has dropped a few drinks as he has prepared them for tables. Stephen knows that Walker won't accept anything less than the best from his workers, so this kid had better buck up his ideas if he wants to stay working at The Blue Moon. "What can I get you tonight?" His voice is eager.

"I'll have an orange juice, please Doug. With ice."

"One OJ, with ice. Coming up."

Stephen watches Doug as he turns to pour the drink; he is a little clumsy and spills a little. Stephen smiles. He thinks he makes Doug nervous; he thinks he may have a crush on him. After a few moments, his drink is placed in front of him and a pair of large blue eyes watches him. "There you go."

"Thanks Doug." Stephen takes the drink and takes a sip. It is cold and he feels better for it. He feels a droplet of sweat trickle down his back, it really is too hot tonight. Stephen sighs and not for the first time wishes that Walker had installed air conditioning at the club. Stephen turns now and moves slowly through the crowd to the far side of the club where he knows Walker will be sitting. The spider at the centre of the web. As he walks, he stops every now and then as customers greet him and murmur their appreciation.

As he approaches the table, Stephen becomes aware of another man sitting opposite Walker in the booth. Stephen cannot see his face, but he notices straight away the nonchalant way the stranger is sitting, his arm stretched out across the back of his seat, his body slightly tilted to the side. Around Walker, people are usually on guard or at least apprehensive, this man is giving off no such emotion. He is relaxed and confident and immediately, Stephen finds himself intrigued by him. He takes another sip of his drink before he passes the man and slides in smoothly into the place next to Walker. He notices that Walker tenses a little as he sits down, but he ignores this and turns to face the stranger sat opposite.

"Stephen, how nice of you to join us." Walker's voice is unfriendly.

The man opposite has fixed his eyes on Stephen and as he turns his eyes from Walker to him Stephen finds he is instantly held by them. Stephen sees him now. He is shaded somewhat, but he sees he is about the same age as Walker, but that's where any similarity ends. He's dark haired and has piercing blue eyes. He also has a dark moustache. It should look ridiculous, but Stephen finds it does not. He is wearing a fine, dark suit and white shirt unbuttoned at the collar. His chest is slightly exposed and his dark chest hair shows. Stephen can see he wears a cross. The two men look at each other for a moment that seems to stretch and elongate. Finally, the man speaks. "Aren't you going to introduce us, Walker?" Stephen hears straight away he has an accent, his voice lilts as he speaks and is softer than he expected. It doesn't fit the rugged looks. Stephen also notices there is an edge to the man's voice, it's commanding. He likes it. Not once since Stephen sat down has this man taken his eyes from him.

The sound of Walker's voice ends the moment that is passing silently. "Stephen Hay. Brendan Brady." Walker's voice is cold. On edge.

"Pleased to meet ye, Stephen." Brendan stretches out his hand across the table, his eyes delve into him.

"Mr Brady." Stephen takes the offered hand and as he touches it he feels something in that moment that he hasn't remembered feeling in a while. Stephen pulls his hand back and looks down at the table. He fears he might be blushing slightly and fights to keep himself under control. It is Brendan that breaks the silence.

"I've been enjoying your show."

Stephen looks up now. He fights a smile as he considers, sure of yourself aren't you, Mr Brady? "Thank you." Is all he says.

Walker's voice cuts in. "Stephen's our star attraction." As he speaks, Walker turns to Stephen and smiles, but his smile does not reach his eyes. "And, Stephen, I don't pay you to sit around. I pay you to perform." His voice drips, with what, contempt? Stephen senses it and the words laden with little-disguised innuendo and he shifts a little uncomfortably in his seat.

"Well, I wouldn't want to upset the boss now, would I?" Somehow he manages to keep his tone light and even. He turns to Brendan. "It's been a pleasure to meet you… Mr Brady." And he offers him the faintest hint of a smile.

"Oh, the pleasure has been all mine," Brendan's voice is smooth and silky as he watches Stephen stand and slide out of the booth.

"I'll get back to it then, Mr Walker." Stephen's tone is dry. He walks back towards the stage. His hips swaying lightly as he weaves between the tables. Stephen smiles aware that only one pair of eyes might be watching him leave, but that another pair has definitely noticed him.

Stephen completes his set. He finds he has to fight the urge to look towards the shadowy corner, the corner where he knows _he_ is still sitting. As his final number of the evening fades out and the crowd's applause rings in his ears, he leaves the stage and heads towards his dressing room. He needs a cigarette he decides and continues past his room to the fire escape at the end of the corridor. The door is unlocked and slightly ajar, someone has clearly had the same idea as he has.

As he steps out on to the small metal platform, there is still the faint smell of tobacco in the air. He finds that the cool breeze is a welcome change from the heat within the club. Stephen stares out over the Village. He reaches into his pocket for his packet of cigarettes and lighter. Taking a cigarette from the packet, he places it in his mouth and attempts to light it. He finds that his hand is shaking slightly. He attempts once more to light it, but to no avail. He shakes the lighter silently, cursing it. As he shakes the lighter once more, he hears a voice, soft and low in the darkness. "Allow me."

Stephen feels a shiver go through him. He turns and speaks levelly. "Mr Brady."

Brendan stands in the open doorway, he fills the space. Stephen realises as he stands how muscular he is and tall. Stephen pauses for a moment before putting the cigarette to his lips. At this, Brendan steps forward and takes out his lighter. With one strike a flame springs from it, illuminating his face. Stephen can see the orange flicker reflected in his eyes, for a moment his eyes appear to be on fire. Stephen bows his head slightly and lights the cigarette, he takes a long draw on it before putting his head back and blowing out a trail of smoke. "Thanks."

Neither speaks for a moment, Brendan breaks the silence. "So, how long have you been working here?"

"About 3 years now." He blows another trail of smoke into the air.

Brendan smiles at Stephen. "And how is it, working _under_ Walker." He accentuates the word as he speaks and Stephen feels a small smile tug his lips.

"I don't have any complaints."

Brendan lets out a little laugh at this.

"And what about you, Mr Brady? What brings you to Hollyoaks?"

Brendan takes a step closer to Stephen. "Business." Stephen straightens up a little as Brendan approaches him. Brendan is taller than him and well-built, there is something in his manner that demands attention.

Stephen fixes Brendan with his eyes. "That accent, Dublin is it?"

"Ye, although Dublin hasn't been home for a long time now." Brendan remains still, his features unreadable.

"Oh, so you brought the family over with you…did you?"

"I don't have a family."

They stand in silence, regarding each other. Suddenly, they turn at the sound of a bang below the fire escape steps. Someone has slammed a car door. The sudden noise brings Stephen back to himself. "Well, I had better go… and clean up."

"You look fine to me." Brendan stares at Stephen, his eyes seem to bore into him.

"Well… I feel… dirty." Stephen's voice is low. "Thank you for the light." He drops the cigarette to the ground and crushes it. "Goodnight, Mr Brady." He steps closer to Brendan. Brendan raises the hat he has been holding and places it on his head.

"Goodnight." Brendan steps aside slowly and allows Stephen to pass. Stephen waits until he is through the door before letting out a breath. Brendan calls. "I'll be seeing you, Stephen." He hears Brendan's footsteps as he descends down the metal stairs.

Stephen reaches out and grasps the bed's metal frame. His hands are either side of Brendan's shoulders as he straddles him. Brendan's legs are stretched out and Stephen rides him. His moans are loud and they are both sweating and breathless.

"Fuck me, ye feel so good." Brendan's voice is faltering as he attempts to thrust up into Stephen's body. Stephen removes one hand from the bed frame and places it on Brendan's chest. He grinds down on to Brendan and throws his head back slightly. Brendan groans and his own head drops back as he watches Stephen's face intently. Stephen snaps his head back and looks Brendan straight in the eye as he grinds down on to him.

"You like that?" Stephen's voice is husky, dripping with sex.

"Ye…" Brendan's arms reach out for Stephen and he grasps him pulling him towards him. He kisses him hungrily, their tongues sliding against each other. Stephen breaks the kiss, his mouth just inches from Brendan's. Brendan gasps again slightly as Stephen pushes down hard on him…

Stephen's eyes snap open. He finds his legs entangled in the sheets of his bed. He is naked and sweating. He flips over on to this back and disengages the sheets from his legs, his cock is throbbing and hard. He breathes heavily as images from his dream wash over him. He swipes a hand through his hair before he allows it to travel down his body. He takes his cock in his hand and begins to fist it slowly, his eyes drifting shut as one face fills his mind.

A little later, jogging bottoms and a t-shirt are Stephen's choice as he realises that he will have to head out to the shops. He still looks amazing. His fridge is empty and finds he is ravenous this morning. There is a deli a couple of streets away from his flat. It serves the most amazing pastries and he decides this is what he wants this morning. As he gets his keys from his bedside table he looks at the crumpled, tangled sheets and a slight blush creeps up his cheeks. His phone suddenly vibrates, an incoming text message. He sprawls across the bed and reaches out for it. The smile on his lips fades a little as he reads the message. 'I want to see you later. W.' He chews his bottom lip absentmindedly for a moment before he puts his phone into his pocket.

Stephen fears he could put a lot of weight on if he allows himself to succumb to the deli's delights too often. He considers this as he rounds the corner to his flat, brown bag held between his hands as he strolls in the morning sun. It's then he sees him. He is outside his flat. He wears dark jeans and a short-sleeved black shirt, completely unbuttoned to reveal a white t-shirt underneath. He leans against the bonnet of a black car his legs stretched out. His eyes are shielded by large, dark sunglasses. Stephen finds he cannot help it, as he approaches him, he smiles.

"Mr Brady, we are going to have to stop meeting like this." His voice is light and playful.

"Oh, I don't know." Brendan removes his sunglasses with one hand and stares at Stephen. His eyes are shining. Stephen walks so he is standing right in front of him. Brendan pushes himself off the car and closes the gap between them. He breathes in deeply. "Something smells good." He leans into Stephen slightly. "I'm starving." As he speaks he dips his head a little, breathing him in.

"Well." Stephen moves slightly forward, lips slightly apart. "I'd suggest." A little closer…."The deli down the road, it does amazing food. You can't miss it."

With that Stephen pulls away from Brendan and brushes past him as he strolls back towards his flat. He feels his eyes on him every step that he takes.


	4. Moments

So here we go, the next instalment. I was aiming for dramatic and a bit emotional. Thank you so much to everyone who has read and reviewed so far… I really appreciate it and if you have a moment, please drop me a line. I'll warn you, there's no sexytimes in this. I know, very odd for me… Ha!

A moment can change your life they say and in Hollyoaks Village this saying is never far from being proven. Moments, meetings they all play their part in changing what was and what will be. Sometimes, it's not until a person reflects that they realise the enormity of a moment that passed. A moment that, at the time, didn't seem all that important. Life because of this: has a habit of surprising us all.

Stephen stands in his small kitchen and removes the food he's just bought at the deli. It does smell good he concedes and he realises he is starving. He laughs a little at this thought; he could be getting all metaphorical if he isn't careful. He takes a croissant from the plate he's placed on the counter and bites into it. It's still warm and tastes delicious. He devours it hungrily. There is a gentle tap at the door. He finishes eating and wipes his mouth, the smile crawling on to his lips is mischievous and lights his features. He sways a little as he walks to the door to open it.

"Hello."

Stephen feels his face falter slightly, but he regains his composure quickly and he hopes the moment went unnoticed. "Simon?" Stephen keeps his voice and his face neutral. It surprises him that he is capable of doing this as his stomach is in knots and his heart races. "I wasn't expecting you." He smiles now and signals for Walker to come in. Walker walks past him and enters the flat. There is nothing in his manner or gait to signal much.

"I sent you a text." Walker has his back to him; he appears to be looking through the door into Stephen's bedroom. It's slightly ajar and the bed is visible, its sheets crumpled and slept in. "Didn't you get it?" His voice is level, quiet.

"Yes, I got it, but I assumed you meant later. I've only just got back." Stephen's voice is light.

Walker turns at this admission. "Oh? Have you been somewhere, Stephen?"

"Yes." Stephen fixes him with his eyes and moves towards him. "Just to the deli around the corner. I needed some food." Stephen signals the brown paper bag on the counter. "Do you want something?" His voice, he realises, sounds laced with innuendo. He also realises he does not really care. If Walker has something he wants to say, Stephen thinks, let him say it.

Walker smirks at him. His cheekbones are sharp as are his eyes as he gazes at Stephen. "You left quickly last night, everything ok?" Walker moves to the sofa now and sits. His stance is languid, his legs spread open.

"No. Nothing really, I wasn't feeling too good. That was all." Stephen stands near to Walker, but makes no move to sit down. Seeing him hovering, Walker stares at him for a moment before he taps the place next to him lightly. Stephen moves forwards slowly.

The sofa dips as Stephen sits down. Walker's stance makes it hard for them not to be touching. Walker stares ahead of him and Stephen realises he is caught up in a thought. Stephen doesn't speak as they sit in silence.

"So, Brendan Brady." Walker turns to Stephen. "A character, wouldn't you say?" He stares at Stephen and Stephen fights to keep his face from betraying anything.

"I don't know. He seems ok." Stephen shrugs as he speaks, he attempts to sound dismissive. "I didn't really speak with him that much." It wasn't really a lie.

Walker watches Stephen intently. "Don't be fooled by the Irish charm." Walker reaches out now and places his hand on Stephen's thigh. Stephen almost jumps at his touch.

"I'm sorry. I'm still feeling a bit funny." Stephen gets up from the sofa, he retreats to the counter. "In fact, I think I might just go and lie down. Try and sleep it off. Work later." He leans back slightly.

Walker stays still for a moment, he's still facing ahead. Suddenly, he pushes up from his seat and turns to face Stephen. He watches him intently for a moment. Stephen matches his gaze. "I'll see you later then?"

Stephen doesn't reply, but he nods. Walker walks to the front door, opens it and leaves. Stephen hears the door gently lock. He slumps a little as he realises he has been holding a breath. He lets it out now and tries to make sense of what has just happened. He goes to the kitchen and takes a glass from the drainer. He fills it with water and sips a little before he trudges slowly to the bedroom. He closes the door. He does need to sleep some more he realises.

Stephen's eyes blink open slowly; his front door is being hammered upon. What the hell? He gets up quickly and makes his way through the flat. "Ok, ok." He says as he opens the door. "Oh, it's you, what's the emergency?"

Leanne stands in front of him, blonde hair scraped back into a ponytail. She's wearing her Blue Moon waitress outfit. "I've been calling you all afternoon, I got worried." Her voice is high and she appears a little breathless.

"Eh?" Stephen runs a hand over his face. "I switched my phone off, I was sleeping."?" She moves past him and into the kitchen, she flicks the kettle on and starts to get mugs out of the cabinet.

"Coffee?" she asks him.

He smiles at her now. "Yes, please."

"You look awful." She speaks breezily as she gets the drinks ready.

"Thanks." Stephen replies. "It's lovely to see you too."

She smiles at him now and there is a glint in her eye. He notices it straight away.

"What?" he asks.

She doesn't answer him, but just looks at him for a moment. The kettle clicks. "Don't give me that." It comes out in a rush. "You know what! I want to hear everything, and I mean everything…" She says happily.

Later, as he walks into the club, Stephen feels better. He and Leanne chatted, drank coffee and ate pastries. He always feels relaxed in her company. He didn't tell her everything, he's not stupid. Much as he likes her, she's got a big mouth and he knows she doesn't mean it, but she has a habit of putting her foot right in it. He did tell her some things, about meeting Brendan at the club and that he thought he was kind of interesting. She managed to tease out of him the fact that he thought he was good looking too, even with the moustache. He didn't mention the dream or the fact that Brendan had been waiting outside his flat. That would have been too much.

As Stephen makes his way up the steps to the second floor, ready to do a quick sound check before his set later, he spies Walker out of the corner of his eye. He's in his usual place towards the back of the club. It's then Stephen realises he's not alone. He recognises who is with Walker instantly. He has changed and is now wearing a suit, gone is the casual dress of earlier. Like the first time Stephen saw him, he sits with his arm stretched across the back of the booth and Stephen cannot see his face as he has his back to him. Stephen decides that he'd rather not make small talk and attempts to rush quickly backstage, but it's too late, Walker has seen him.

"Stephen!" Walker's voice is loud. The club isn't silent, there is a buzz of work as the staff get ready for the night ahead, but even so, the noise isn't loud enough for him to make out he hasn't heard him. He walks over to Walker's table.

"You remember Mr Brady, don't you?" Walker signals to Brendan who sits motionless, not a flicker registers on his features.

"Yes, of course. It was only last night. Mr Brady." Stephen turns now and holds his hand out for Brendan to shake. Brendan takes his hand and shakes it slowly. Stephen finds he cannot meet his eyes.

"Stephen." Brendan's voice is cool and low. An oasis in the heat, Stephen thinks.

Walker looks a little irritated by Stephen's tone and the fact that the two men are holding hands.

"Sit down, Stephen." Walker's voice is clipped and brittle. Stephen looks now and sees that Walker is gesturing to the space by him. He slips into the seat, but makes sure that he is not touching him.

When Walker speaks, he looks directly at Brendan. "So you see, Brendan. I have a good business here. I don't blame you for wanting in. If I was you, I would. I'd definitely want what I've got." Stephen is aware that the mood around the table is charged. Walker never breaks eye contact with Brendan and for his part, Brendan stares directly at Walker a look of intensity in his eyes. Suddenly, Walker moves and grasps Stephen by the thigh, his hand is firm and Stephen flinches a little at his touch. Walker moves his hand slightly up Stephen's groin, his hand brushing against his crotch. Stephen coughs and feels a faint blush rise in his cheeks. "Simon, don't." Stephen's voice is a whisper. Walker turns to Stephen briefly and he finds he cannot read the look in his eyes.

Walker looks back to Brendan. The moment passes and then he turns on Stephen. "Haven't you got work to be doing?"

Stephen attempts to get up with as much grace as he can, but his legs are shaking and he feels flustered. He walks off quickly to his dressing room.

Stephen sits in front of the mirror in his dressing room and tries to make sense of what has just happened. He feels tears start to prick his eyes. That bastard, he thinks to himself. Walker touching him like that: like he's some piece of meat. The thought gnaws away at him, but in truth he knows that it is a feeling he has felt before and ignored. He feels ashamed. He takes a cotton pad from the table and some cleansing fluid and begins to swipe at his face, his movements become rougher as he brushes the pad over his skin.

Walker enters the dressing room quietly. Stephen quickly wipes at his eyes and face. Stephen looks at Walker reflected in the mirror, it's like he sees him clearly. "I need to get ready." His voice is cold.

Walker doesn't move at all, he stands behind Stephen and Stephen becomes aware of his proximity to him. Walker does not speak and Stephen begins to feel uneasy. The room is silent.

Stephen breaks the silence. "Is there something you want?" His voice is unsteady.

"I don't know." Walker's voice is unreadable. "You tell me." He reaches out and touches Stephen's neck, running his fingers over it. Stephen jumps up and turns quickly.

"No. Not now, I've got to get ready." He tries to move away from the table, but too quickly Walker steps forward and pushes him against it roughly.

"Don't be like that, Stephen." Walker is in Stephen's space now and he tries to push past him, but finds he is too strong.

Stephen feels tears prick his eyes. "Don't Simon, please." He feels a sob rise in him.

Walker stands still, he does not move. He brings a hand up to Stephen's face and gently traces it along his cheek down to his jaw. "Beautiful." He murmurs. Suddenly, roughly he grabs Stephen's face and sneers at him. "Wouldn't it be a shame if that was to change?" His voice is ice.

Stephen can't look at him, he feels his breathe coming hard and fast now. Walker releases him, but doesn't step away. He remains pushed up against him and Stephen can feel the table as it digs into his back. Stephen feels tears well in his eyes. Walker speaks softly now, brushing Stephen's tears as he soothes him. "Remember you are mine Stephen. Don't make me hurt you."

Walker turns then and walks out of the room. Stephen feels his legs give way. A sob breaks from his lips. He needs to get out, get away from here. He rushes out of his dressing room. The fire escape door is open and he heads for it, tears blinding his eyes. As he steps out on to the metal steps, he feels the light breeze on his face. How could he be so stupid? He reprimands himself. He races down the steps and out into the alley behind the club.

"Hey, Stephen, you ok?" He hears the voice as he stumbles on. It's familiar, American. Doug. He sees the concerned look in Doug's eyes, but doesn't stop. He walks quickly, along the alley way.

"Hey, Stephen!" Doug's voice rings around the bricks. Stephen turns, but he doesn't stop walking. He almost runs. He stumbles out of the alleyway and immediately is aware that he has bumped into someone. He feels arms grip him. He turns sharply and finds he is looking straight into a pair of concerned blue eyes.

"Brendan." He breathes as he slumps into Brendan.

Brendan holds on to him and speaks, his voice drips with concern. "Stephen, are you ok?"

"Take me away from here, Brendan. Anywhere, please…"He tries hard, but cannot stifle the tears that are welling up in him. Brendan places his arm around him now and ushers him out further into the street. Stephen sees Brendan's black car parked opposite. They approach and Brendan holds him as he opens the door with his other hand and helps Stephen into the passenger seat. Stephen glances at Brendan as he shuts the door and walks around to the driver's side. Brendan slides into the care and places the key in the ignition. He looks just once at Stephen, his brow knotted with concern before he places the car in drive and pulls away. Stephen lets out a breath as he slumps into the car's leather seat as they leave the village.


	5. Hidden

Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed my story. I really appreciate it. Not going to say too much here, but I do hope you enjoy and please send me a review (if you have the time) I love to read them. Lyrics at the start from 'Born to Die' by Larna Del Ray, but you knew that, didn't you?!

The car slips through the Village; before long the road lengthens out. It's an invitation. The heat is still oppressing, but on the open road it feels different somehow, more bearable. The windows are open and a faint breeze blows gently in. _"…I feel so alone on a Friday night. Can you make it feel like home? If I tell you, you're mine…"_

Stephen sits pensive. His eyes are closed and his breathing is shallow. He is aware that they have been driving for a fairly long time. At first, in silence, now, the radio provides a soundtrack to their journey. Brendan does not speak. Instead, he keeps his eyes fixed on the road and drives. Stephen chances a glance across at him. Stephen notices immediately the muscles of the other man's arms as he grips the wheel. Arms, that an hour or so ago, had gripped him and lead him to this car. In profile, Stephen also notices that Brendan looks even manlier as the day's stubble slowly shadows his face. Brendan's jaw sets as he concentrates. Stephen quickly turns his head, aware that he is staring and looks out of the window once more. It's a blur, as the car speeds past.

"Brendan. Where are we going?" Stephen's voice is low, uncertain.

"You asked me to take ye away." The smooth lilt of Brendan's voice takes Stephen by surprise. It's a caress to his overwrought senses.

"I know." Stephen turns back to face him now. The light fades fast. "But where _exactly _are we going?"

Brendan glances at him his voice is steady. "My place. We're almost there."

Stephen says nothing at this. He falls back against the leather seat of the car. He wonders if he should be scared, letting this tall, dark, handsome Irish stranger take him away like this, but he is also aware that he asked him to. He begged him to when he stumbled out of the alley, at the back of the club, into Brendan's arms. It's his choice to be here. He is also keenly aware of another fact as he sits silently in Brendan Brady's car: not once has he ever seen Walker's place.

The car slows and they turn left on to a side road, it's a dirt track really. It's dark now, but Stephen is aware of hedges on either side of them. They emerge from the road and in front of them is a small cottage. It's isolated with no other houses or buildings around it. Stephen looks at it, he thinks it is pretty and he thinks not the sort of place he would have associated with a man like Brendan. Brendan seems to sense Stephen's thoughts as he slowly pulls the car to a halt. "It was my grandparents'. It's mine now," he says matter-of-factly.

Brendan undoes his seatbelt and opens the car door. Outside of the car, he stretches and Stephen hears a bone crack in his back as he flexes. Stephen undoes his own seatbelt and reaches for his door. Once outside the car, he looks across at Brendan who stands opposite. "Do you actually live here?" he asks.

Brendan stops stretching and looks at him. "No. It's more a holiday home. I do have a flat nearer to the Village, but I like to come here, you know, when I want to get away from it all."

Stephen nods his head in approval, he can understand that sentiment. "It's lovely," he states. He reaches down and shuts the car door. He takes in a breath, enjoying the freshness of the air. He hears the faint buzz of insects and the sound of crickets.

Brendan watches him intently. "Shall we?" he asks motioning to the cottage. Stephen smiles and walks around the car towards him.

"Yes." Stephen signals for Brendan to lead the way. As Brendan walks ahead of him, Stephen turns to look back; the darkness masks the road's entrance even more now. He feels that they are even more cut off.

Stephen turns to see Brendan take a large set of keys out of his pocket. He unlocks the front door and opens it. As he does so a small black cat darts out and begins to brush herself against his legs. "Hello, you." Brendan's voice is warm. "Want your freedom do ye?" The cat meows a welcome and looks up at Brendan expectantly.

"Awww, she's lovely." Stephen speaks and bends to stroke the cat. She purrs softly as he tickles her behind the ear.

"She's a pain, is what she is. Go on Mitzeee, scram!" At this, the cat races off into the darkness almost seeming to fade into the night.

Brendan switches the lights on as they walk into the cottage. "Make yeself at home." He flicks the switches on a couple of lamps and removes his jacket before placing it on a set of hooks near the door. Stephen is suddenly aware that he is not wearing a jacket. It's still in his dressing room back at the club. The cottage is open plan: a living room with a kitchen to the side. A counter separates the two areas. A set of wooden stairs lead off out of sight, up to the second floor. There is a brown leather sofa in front of the fire; Stephen perches himself on it. The cottage is cosy and inviting. Brendan opens the back door and leaves it ajar. "Drink?" he asks and Stephen looks at him and smiles his approval.

"Please."

After bustling in the kitchen, Brendan walks towards Stephen with two glasses. "Wine ok?"

Stephen takes the offered drink and takes a small sip. "Thank you." He pauses before continuing. "Look about earlier, I'm sorry, I was probably just overreacting."

Brendan sits down next to Stephen now. "It's ok. Didn't like to see ye so upset though." He pauses. "What happened, Stephen? Between you and Walker."

"What makes you think it had anything to do with Walker?" Stephen's voice rises a little and he shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

Brendan looks at Stephen closely now, measuring his reactions. "Well, I just assumed it was about him. He's your boss, you were at the club and well, things seemed a bit tense between you."

Stephen takes another small sip of his drink; his tongue slips out and wets his lips slightly. "Look, it was nothing really. It was just Walker being Walker."

Brendan doesn't take his eyes off Stephen as he speaks. He takes a sip of his own drink and listens. "Stephen, you know you can trust me, right? " It's funny because he is right. Stephen hardly knows him and yet, he does trust him. "Walker. Well, let's just say he might not be as trustworthy…"

"Brendan." Stephen sighs. "Can we not talk about him, please? I just want to forget about him, the club, everything. Just for one night." Stephen suddenly feels so tired.

As if sensing Stephen's fatigue, Brendan sips his drink and nods slowly. "Yeah, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to push ye." Brendan relaxes back into the sofa now.

Stephen feels himself relaxing too as the wine starts to make him feel warm and comfortable. He sits forward again and leans a little towards Brendan. "Well, Mr Brady, tell me a bit more about this place and your grandparents."

Brendan smiles at this and pushes himself up from the sofa. "I think… we'll need more wine."

They talk and laugh for what seems like hours to Stephen and after a while he struggles to stifle a yawn. At this, Brendan tells him he can take the bedroom upstairs and he'll take the sofa. Stephen tries to argue, but Brendan insists saying he is his guest.

Brendan leads the way upstairs. There are three wooden doors: the bedroom, the bathroom and what Brendan says is a cupboard. "Let me know if ye need anything, ok?" Brendan's voice is warm and Stephen thinks to himself how he loves his accent.

"Thank you." Stephen stands in the doorway to the bedroom. He realises that he is holding his breath slightly as Brendan stands in front of him. "Night."

"Goodnight, Stephen." Brendan looks into his eyes and then walks quickly downstairs.

Stephen shuts the door and turns towards the bed. He notices how quiet and peaceful it is compared to the noise and bustle of his flat. He decides that he likes it. He slips his trousers off and shirt and gets into the bed in just his boxer shorts. It's a warm night, so he won't be cold. He reaches over and switches off the bedside lamp and lies in the dark. As he lies there in the dark, his breathing calming, he thinks about the man downstairs.

It is very dark when Stephen awakes and for a moment he panics, unsure of where he is. Then his eyes adjust to the moonlight and he becomes aware of his surroundings once more. He decides he needs a drink of water; the wine has left him feeling thirsty. He pads quietly down the wooden stairs as he doesn't want to disturb Brendan, but as he walks into the kitchen he becomes aware of a figure standing by the sink in the kitchen. He jumps slightly.

"Sorry, Stephen, I didn't mean to scare ye." Brendan's voice is low and deep. He is standing with his back to the sink, leaning slightly, arms folded across his chest.

Stephen looks at him in the moonlight. Like Stephen, he is wearing nothing but his boxer shorts. Stephen lets out a breath, a sigh really as he takes in the sight of him. He is broad and his chest and stomach are covered in dark hair. Stephen also sees he has a large tattoo on his arm. In the darkness he can only just make out the shape, a cross. "I just need a drink of water" Stephen is aware that his voice sounds flustered. He moves closer to Brendan. They stand inches apart now and Stephen feels the moment stop, he cannot move. Brendan's face is in part shadow, but Stephen is aware of the intensity of his gaze. Brendan remains silent. Stephen slowly reaches his hand out to Brendan's chest and touches him. His skin feels warm and soft. Suddenly, without warning, Brendan seizes his hand and grips him tightly. Stephen panics. "I'm sorry, I thought you wanted… I'm sorry…" Brendan still doesn't speak. He stares at Stephen. Stephen attempts to pull away, but finds he can't. Suddenly, Brendan pulls him roughly to him. Their lips are nearly touching. Stephen's lips part and he feels his chest tighten. Slowly, Brendan dips his face towards him and kisses him. The kiss is gentle, searching. Brendan pulls back slightly and then suddenly he is on Stephen again his hands fisting into his hair. Stephen feels himself being pulled into Brendan's arms as he succumbs to the kiss. Brendan pushes his tongue into Stephen's mouth, craving access. Stephen opens for him as Brendan crashes them back against the refrigerator door. As his back hits, Stephen lets out a groan. Brendan pulls away from him slightly before moving one hand down to grip one of Stephen's thighs and pull it up. Stephen sighs at the feeling of Brendan pushed hard against him. Brendan grinds into him now and Stephen lets his head fall back. Brendan begins to place a trail of kisses along Stephen's exposed throat.

"I want ye, Stephen." Brendan's voice is a growl as he speaks into Stephen's neck.

Stephen's breath is jagged and he can barely speak. He pushes Brendan away a little and they stand facing each other. Stephen reaches down and takes Brendan's hand and leads him towards the stairs and the bedroom.

Stephen sits on the edge of the bed and watches as Brendan approaches him. "Lie back."

Stephen shuffles back until his head is on the pillows, Brendan crawls up the bed, his hands either side of Stephen's body before he plants them on either side of his face. Brendan is poised above him now and he stares down into Stephen's eyes. Slowly Brendan kisses Stephen, his tongue swipes into Stephen's mouth. Brendan begins to kiss down Stephen's jaw and as he does so he allows himself to fall on to Stephen, the feeling of his skin sends shocks through Stephen's whole body. Brendan kisses down and begins to lick Stephen's throat. "God, ye taste amazing." He breathes. He continues his trail down to Stephen's chest, he swirls his tongue around Stephen's left nipple, teasing it and sucking it gently. "God, Brendan." Stephen's voice is thick and needy.

Brendan smiles a little as he moves down Stephen's body, he barely touches him with his hands, but uses his mouth to kiss and lick over Stephen's sensitive flesh. Brendan pauses as he reaches the waistband of Stephen's boxer shorts. He sits up on his knees, between Stephen's legs and places his hands underneath Stephen's body. He stares into Stephen's eyes as he slowly raises him up and in a fluid motion pulls the shorts off. Stephen's cock springs to attention, already oozing precum, Brendan's eyes glisten as he drinks in the sight of him. "Turn over." He commands.

Stephen turns on to his stomach. Brendan begins to trail his fingers down Stephen's back, Stephen places his arms underneath the pillow and turns his head, he can't see Brendan fully, but just relaxes into his touch. Brendan licks a trail down Stephen's spine, stopping just above his buttocks. Stephen now feels Brendan part him slowly and his senses reel as he feels Brendan's breath ghost over his entrance. Stephen gasps as Brendan licks into him. Arching off the bed, his moans and sighs fill the air as Brendan slowly fucks him with his tongue. Brendan is in no rush, he licks and swirls and delves into Stephen over and over. After Brendan removes his tongue, he gently rubs a finger into Stephen, he bucks and writhes under Brendan's touch. "Brendan." Pretty soon, Brendan inserts another finger. He is opening Stephen up. Working his body. Stephen's voice is high and keening and he looks back to see Brendan leaning on one elbow looking down at him intently as he slowly fucks Stephen with his fingers.

"Turn over, Stephen, I want to see ye." Brendan's voice is soft. As Stephen turns over, Brendan reaches up and touches his cheek. "Just look at ye." Brendan swiftly moves up to kiss Stephen and as he does so he positions himself between Stephen's legs. It's only then, that Stephen realises that Brendan has removed his own underwear. Brendan gently eases Stephen up, angling him so he can enter him. He does so, slowly easing into his body. Stephen closes his eyes. "No, Stephen. Look at me." Stephen opens his eyes again and looks up at Brendan.

Slowly, at first, Brendan begins to thrust into Stephen. His strokes are slow and deep, hitting the sweet spot inside Stephen. Stephen locks his ankles around Brendan and pulls him closer to him. As he does so, Brendan's thrusts become faster and harder. "Fuck, Brendan." Stephen finds he cannot stop the expletive from coming out. "Don't stop, I'm coming."

Brendan continues to fuck Stephen hard and deep. Stephen climaxes, ribbons of cum shooting across his stomach. At this Brendan looks at him and sighs. "I'm going to come, Stephen." He resumes his relentless pace, his thrusts becoming less measured and more erratic.

"Yes. Yes, Brendan." Stephen pants as he feels Brendan tense and then fill him. Brendan drops down on to him, his forehead on Stephen's shoulder; their bodies covered in sweat. Slowly, Stephen strokes Brendan's back. He finds he has nothing to say, but he feels happier than he has in a long time. Eventually, Brendan moves to lie by Stephen's side. He pulls him close. Stephen is exhausted and he feels sleep tugging at his senses.

Later, in the dead of night, Stephen wakes and finds he needs the toilet. He disengages Brendan's arm from around his waist and goes silently out of the room to the bathroom. It is pitch black as he gropes for the door handle. He pushes the door open and feels inside for the switch. Stephen gasps as he realises the door he has opened is not to the bathroom. In his sleepy state, he misjudged which of the other two doors on the landing was the one to the bathroom. His breath catches in his throat and his eyes widen as he takes in the scene before him. It is fairly large, the cupboard, with enough space for a table and a chair. On the wall above the table are various photographs and clippings. Mostly there are photographs. Stephen's eyes flick over the images. Walker. Walker and his heavies. Walker and Stephen. Stephen. He feels panic rise in his chest.

"I didn't mean for you to see that, Stephen." Behind him, Brendan's voice pierces the silence.


	6. Exposed

Here we go then folks! Sorry for the delay in updating, but I've been very busy. Hope you like and please leave me a comment if you have the time. I really love reading them!

A moment can be more than a moment: it can feel like it elongates and stretches and becomes something more. Times like these are often the definers, from this point: things will never be the same again. The silence that surrounds Stephen and Brendan is tangible; it touches them and covers them until there is nothing else. Only silence. Stephen struggles to make sense of what he has seen. He stands his eyes wide and gazes at Brendan. Brendan for his part is completely still save for the slow rise and fall of his chest.

"No. No, no…!" Stephen's voice is small and fragile. He looks back at the wall, wishing that he had been wrong; confused in the darkness. That he hadn't seen what his eyes are now clearly seeing. It's then his eye is drawn to another photograph and his eyes fix on it. Walker and Douglas. Walker is leaning into Douglas, whispering something that is making Douglas smile. His hand rests on Douglas' hip. Stephen feels his stomach twist at this sight. Stephen snaps his head back to look at Brendan. His is a statue, he hasn't moved or spoken the whole time. He just stares at Stephen. "What is all this Brendan? I don't understand." Stephen tries, but his voice shakes as he speaks.

Brendan does not answer, but continues to stare at Stephen. His silence becomes more uncomfortable with each moment. Stephen lets out a breath. "So, you're just going to say nothing then? Well…" and with that Stephen pushes into Brendan and past him. As he attempts to walk away, he suddenly feels Brendan's hand grasp him firmly. Brendan pulls him to a stop.

"Stephen." Brendan's voice is low and there is something there. Something like a warning.

Stephen spins at this and rounds on him. "What Brendan? What? What is all that?" Stephen gestures at the wall of photographs.

"Stephen. I need you to trust me." Brendan's voice is low. He looks hard into Stephen's eyes, a look almost of pleading. "I will explain, but you need to calm down first, ok?"

"Maybe I'd feel calmer if you weren't grabbing me!" Stephen spits out the words as he tries to pull his arm from Brendan's grasp. Brendan tightens his grip. "What? Am I your prisoner or something? Let me go." Stephen's breathing accelerates and he feels his anger rising. "Let me go I said!" he snarls into Brendan's face. Brendan remains still, nothing to indicate his emotions at all. Stephen finds his cool reactions unsettling. He takes a step back and his mind races. Is this the same man who he was making love with only an hour or so ago? The man who had adored him and lavished such attention on his body. Stephen feels his anger giving way to fear in the face of Brendan's inaction. "Please, let me go." His voice is a whisper now.

Brendan still holds him firmly by the wrist and surveys him. He speaks quietly. "If I let you go, do you promise to stay calm and not do anything stupid?" His blue eyes never leave Stephen's face.

Stephen nods his agreement and quietly says, "Yes." Brendan does not release him instantly, but he gazes at him a moment longer before slowly removing his hand. At the loss of his touch, Stephen springs to life. He turns and runs for the bedroom. He is so quick that Brendan has little time to react. All Stephen can think is that he needs his clothes and his phone. He runs to the door and through it before he pushes it closed and presses his back to it. It has a lock which he turns quickly.

In an instant Brendan is hammering on the door, his voice raised in anger. "Stephen, open the door! Open the door!" Stephen fumbles quickly for his clothes and pulls his trousers and shirt on. He searches desperately for his phone. He is down on the floor. It must have fallen on the ground when he and Brendan were…

Suddenly, the door bursts open and Brendan is stood framed in it. "Are you looking for this?" His voice is a drawl and in his hand he has Stephen's phone. Terror rises in Stephen at the sight of Brendan stood in the doorway, he feels like prey being cornered by its hunter.

"Brendan, please… I didn't mean…" Stephen's voice is pleading as he stands and moves slowly towards Brendan. As he comes face to face with him, he stands still and looks into Brendan's eyes. "Look, we can talk. You can explain, ok? I'll liste…" as the final words leave his mouth Stephen attempts to run and shove his way past Brendan, but Brendan has his path blocked instantly. Stephen feels the force of Brendan's arms as they grip him and throw him back down on the bed.

"I'm sorry, Stephen. I can't let you leave."

Stephen lies on the bed and he feels a tear prick his eye. He cannot process what is happening. How can this man in front of him be the same man from earlier? He has a flash suddenly, him lying under Brendan as he kisses his neck, cock buried deep in Stephen as their moans fill the air. As if reading his mind, Brendan's gaze becomes softer. "Stephen, you have to trust me. Please."

"Trust you?" Stephen's voice drips with contempt. "You have my phone. You won't let me leave and you've just," Stephen gazes down at the bed he is slumped on. "Tell me, Brendan, why the hell should I trust you?"

Brendan is near him then. "I wouldn't hurt you, Stephen. Please you have to trust me. I'm sorry for pushing ye, ok? I just. I can't let you leave. It's not safe now." Brendan's voice becomes softer as he speaks and he kneels on the floor near Stephen. If he wanted to, Stephen could run as the way is clear, but there is something in the way Brendan pleads that stops him.

Stephen gazes down at Brendan, his blue eyes are intense and searching. "Ok, Brendan. I'll listen, but can we go downstairs please? I don't feel comfortable here."

Brendan suddenly seems to realise and immediately jumps up. "Ye, of course." He steps back and allows Stephen to stand. Stephen makes no attempt to run this time and waits for Brendan to lead the way. Brendan turns to him at the door. "Stephen, I am sor…" his voice trails off and he doesn't finish the sentence as Stephen's eyes have locked past him. They are staring into the cupboard behind him. He sighs and turns once more to lead the way down.

Stephen sits nervously on the sofa in the living room. Brendan comes towards him with two bottles of beer in his hands. He offers one to Stephen before sitting in the chair opposite him. Neither speaks as they just sit and stare at one another. Stephen finally breaks the silence. "Look, I wasn't snooping you know. I really thought that that was the door for the bathroom." He looks at Brendan who is watching him intently.

"I know." Brendan's voice is low. "It was stupid of me. I should have checked it was locked." Brendan places the bottle to his lips before he slowly takes a sip.

Stephen sighs and relaxes a little. He brushes his hand through his hair before he speaks again. "I don't understand. Why have you got all those pictures of Walker?" Stephen looks at Brendan before he continues. "Of me?"

Brendan remains silent; Stephen can tell that he is thinking about something. He appears torn, uncertain of what to say next. Brendan lets out a breath and stands. He walks towards Stephen slowly and sits down beside him. Stephen shuffles away from him a little, wanting at least a small distance between them. Brendan gazes at him before he speaks. "Stephen," he pauses. "There are things you don't know about Simon Walker. He has done things, terrible things and… well, he needs to pay for what he's done."

Stephen feels his eyes widen as Brendan speaks. He feels sick. Walker? His lover? He finds his voice deserts him for a moment; he steadies himself and speaks quietly. "Walker? What has he done, Brendan?"

Brendan remains silent. His brow furrowed. "Stephen…" he whispers. Brendan sighs before he speaks next. He rubs his forehead and purses his lips.

Stephen urges. "Tell me."

"Do you remember a lad? Name of Joel Dexter? Worked at the club about a year ago?"

Stephen pauses for a moment. He nods his head slowly. Of course he remembers Joel, he thinks to himself. He was my friend. "Yes, I knew Joel. He left, went back to Glasgow." The look that comes across Brendan's face fills Ste's stomach with dread. "Brendan?"

"I'm sorry, Stephen." He pauses. "Joel never made it back to Glasgow." Brendan looks at Stephen.

Stephen's breathing is shallow. "What do you mean, Brendan?"

Silence.

"Brendan. What happened to Joel?" Stephen presses. He feels his hand grip his beer bottle.

Brendan gazes at Stephen now, his eyes searching his face. "You know, Stephen. It was Walker. He killed Joel."

Stephen feels like he has been punched in the stomach now. His mind reels. Walker, a murderer? Walker his boss, his lover. He tries to stop them, but the tears begin to spill down his face. He stands now and feels the bile rise in his throat. "No." His voice is barely there. "No, you're lying. Joel went back to Glasgow, he texted me." Stephen looks frantically to Brendan now.

"It wasn't him, Stephen. I'm sorry. He's dead. Walker killed him. He must have sent you the text afterwards." Brendan pauses for a moment before standing and attempting to move towards Stephen.

Stephen turns to Brendan as he approaches. "No, you're lying. He wouldn't do that. He wouldn't." Stephen's voice is small, fragile.

Brendan takes Stephen by the arms and holds him gently. "I'm sorry, Stephen. He did. I have proof." Brendan gazes at Stephen. Holds him.

Stephen can barely speak as the tears fill his eyes. "What proof? What proof do you have?" At this, Brendan doesn't speak, but his eyes rise slightly upwards. Stephen feels like he is going to be sick. "No. No, no, no… don't tell me Joel is on that wall…" the words barely form.

Brendan grips Stephen a little more tightly now. "Stephen, I'm sorry. He did it. I know he did it. He's a murderer. A killer."

Stephen feels the tears stream down his face now and he struggles a little as he processes what Brendan has just told him. Joel was his friend. His good friend. They would go out together sometimes, Joel wasn't gay, it wasn't like that. He was a friend. Walker. Walker hadn't liked their friendship… Stephen stops. He stares into Brendan's eyes. He knows that Brendan is telling him the truth. "No." he whispers. "No, no, no!" and suddenly his hands beat against Brendan's chest. Brendan grasps his wrists now. "No!" his voice rises and Brendan pulls him into his arms, against his chest shushing into his hair. He feels his tears take over. He cries now. Cries for something that in his heart, he had already known.

Brendan speaks into his hair. "I'm sorry, Stephen. I never wanted you to find out like this. You have to believe that." He soothes with his hands and voice as Stephen cries.

Stephen pulls away and steadies himself. "Who are you, Brendan?" His voice is calm.

Brendan lets him go then and moves away from him slightly. He brushes a hand through his hair. He looks to Stephen and falters; Stephen's face is blighted with tears, his eyes red rimmed. He looks to him, his eyes intense. "You have to believe me. I never meant for this to happen. I would never hurt you."

Stephen stares at Brendan. "Who are you Brendan? Why are you after Walker?"

Brendan steadies. He stops moving and looks directly at Stephen. It's as if a switch goes off in him and he speaks now clearly. "I'm a policeman, Stephen. I'm undercover."

Stephen feels like the ground beneath him has given way. He breathes and grips the back of the sofa. "Say that again."

Brendan steps towards him. "Stephen, listen please…"

"Say it again." Stephen's voice is cold.

Brendan sighs and steps closer. "I'm a policeman, Stephen. I'm working undercover. Your boss Walker is my assignment."

Stephen's head snaps up at this. Brendan tenses. "Assignment?" Stephen nods his head. "Right, assignment? And what about me, Brendan? Am I part of your assignment?" his voice rises.

Brendan remains silent.

"Well, Brendan?" Stephen approaches him. "Tell me. Was fucking me part of your assignment?" Stephen closes in on Brendan.

"Stephen. No." Brendan's voice is a whisper. "I never meant…"

"What, Brendan? You never meant what? I mean is that even your fucking name?"

Neither of them speaks. The air between them is thick.

Brendan speaks slowly, quietly. "I never meant to involve you, but the moment I saw you you've all I've been thinking about. It's clouded my judgement. I haven't been able to focus on Walker. Just you. It's only been you. If he hurt you…" Brendan breaks off not able to articulate his last thought.

Stephen stands silent. He swipes a hand across his face, the tears wetting his hand. Stephen feels that the world has stopped and all there is, is here and now. He looks to Brendan and speaks quietly. "Is your name even Brendan?" He needs to hear one thing that isn't a lie.

"Yes. My name is Brendan Brady."

Stephen looks around. "What about this place? Does it belong to you? Did your grandparents leave it to you?"

Brendan sighs loudly.

"Well?" Stephen questions.

Brendan sits on the sofa. "Yes, Stephen. Yes it is." Brendan stares into the distance. "I shouldn't have brought you here. I shouldn't have…" his voice stops.

"Why did you then?" Stephen speaks quietly.

Brendan looks at him now. "You know why."

Before he has time to process his thoughts, Stephen has moved onto Brendan's lap, kissing him roughly. At first Brendan pushes him back, holding them apart. He looks into Stephen's eyes before claiming his mouth again. Stephen moans as they kiss, Brendan's tongue pushing between his lips, tasting him. Brendan's hands grip Stephen's back and pull him closer. Stephen can feel the hardness of Brendan's cock pushing against him. He grinds down into Brendan's lap causing Brendan to exhale and break the kiss for a second. He pushes Stephen back a little, their foreheads touching. "Stephen."

Stephen wraps his arms around Brendan's neck and kisses him deeply again. Brendan groans into his mouth and rises from the sofa, holding Stephen fast. Stephen wraps his legs around Brendan's back and he gasps as his back makes contact with the wall. Brendan holds him steady as he kisses him. Brendan stands back for a moment and stares into Stephen's eyes. He pushes his jogging bottoms down and releases his cock. It juts against his stomach. Stephen pulls his own trousers and boxers down to his ankles before kicking them off. Brendan steps towards him again and claims his mouth before gripping him and lifting him from the ground. Stephen braces back against the wall, his arms wrapped around Brendan's neck. Brendan positions himself and Stephen slowly seats himself fully onto Brendan's cock feeling himself stretch and accommodate him. He is still loose from their previous lovemaking and he feels completely filled as Brendan slowly begins to thrust upwards into him. Stephen gives himself over to the sensations and throws his head back as Brendan pounds into him. Neither is going to last long, but this is not about that, it's about something more basic. Their need to be connected to one another. Brendan continues to thrust into Stephen setting a frantic pace. Stephen kisses him now, hard and desperate. "Come inside me, Brendan." He pants.

"God." Brendan growls as he continues to thrust. Stephen feels him tense and looks directly into his eyes. Brendan's eyes never leave his as his mouth opens and he cries as he comes hard inside Stephen. Brendan breathes raggedly as he holds Stephen in place. He then releases Stephen's legs and slowly pulls himself from him. Stephen cannot help the small laugh that escapes his lips. Brendan silences him by kissing him deeply. "I ain't gonna lose you, Stephen." As he speaks Brendan stares into Stephen's eyes.

"I'm not going anywhere, Brendan." As he speaks the words, Stephen knows they are the truth.

Brendan kisses him again before pulling back. Stephen smiles as Brendan slowly begins to kiss down his throat, over his chest and nipples. He gasps as Brendan takes him in his mouth and begins to suck. He feels his cock hit the back of Brendan's throat as he takes him deep. Stephen lets his head fall back once more as he laces his fingers through his lover's hair, slowly thrusting his hips and fucking his mouth. "I'm right here." He breathes.


	7. Altered

Okay. Here we go folks. Sorry for the delay in updating, real life has been a pain! Not sure what to say about this one, just a bit of plot moving along really. Hope it's ok – I'm a bit unsure about it. Please leave me a review if you get the time and thank you for all the lovely ones so far!

The heat of the summer still lingers. It's a dry heat that gets into your bones. It's hard sometimes to remember a time when it was colder, darker, but that time did exist and will come again. As the sun rises over the trees outside the cottage, and the birds begin to sing, you could be forgiven for thinking you've turned the wrong page and that this isn't the story you started. It is though. It's just that things have changed.

Stephen wakes. His eyes flutter open, eyelashes long and black; eyes blue and bold. He shifts slightly feeling the weight of the man behind him. And the heat of him. He is wrapped in Brendan. Brendan lies flush against his back, his arm drapes over Stephen's middle. Brendan's breathing is light and steady. He appears to be sleeping deeply. Stephen feels Brendan's warm breath on his neck. It is not unpleasant, and he finds he enjoys it. Stephen's mind thinks back to the previous night and its events and revelations. He bites his lip as he considers what exactly happened and how things have changed so drastically. Walker. The man he works with. The man he sleeps with. A murderer.

Stephen thinks again of Joel. They had been good friends. Joel was streetwise and had a hard edge, yet he and Stephen had got on well. Maybe it was the absence of a father in both their lives that had drawn them together, given them common ground? Stephen remembers the last time he saw Joel. At the club, on the fire escape at the back. He'd said he was going to Glasgow, but that he'd be back and would let Stephen know when. He'd turned then and walked off into the darkness of the alley. Stephen hadn't been concerned, not even when he'd received a text from Joel to say he wasn't coming back to the Village, he was going to stay in Scotland. Hollyoaks Village was like that. People came. People went. It wasn't unusual for a person to ride off in a taxi, never to be seen again. Stephen thinks about this now. He had thought that Joel might return one day, but he hadn't blamed him for wanting to stay in his hometown. He had texted him, wishing him good luck and that had been the last he'd heard from him. Now, he realises, that Joel's disappearance had been anything but commonplace. Walker had made sure that Joel was never going to return. Stephen shudders at the thought of Walker. He finds it hard to believe that only yesterday he had been in his dressing room with Walker, so much has changed since then. He shivers at the words Walker said to him "Remember you are mine, Stephen." He can still feel the cold look in his eyes, his stomach turns.

Brendan shifts against Stephen and Stephen's eyes flutter shut as he feels the solid weight of Brendan against him. He wants to forget about Walker. Needs to forget. Stephen pushes back slightly, moving himself against Brendan. He gets Brendan's attention immediately and the Irish man whispers into his ear, soft and low. "Good morning."

Stephen smiles as he pushes his hips back, "Morning. I thought you were never going to wake up."

Stephen turns himself to face Brendan and smiles at the sight of the man before him. He has bed hair and his eyes are hooded, but there is no mistaking it, the allure of him. Stephen feels his pulse quicken as he watches him.

"Oh, did you want something, Stephen?" Brendan asks, his voice is laced with innuendo.

Stephen smiles playing along and then pouts. "No, nothing in particular." Stephen turns as he speaks and moves to leave the bed. He finds himself quickly pulled back by Brendan. Immediately, Brendan pins him down and shifts his weight on top of him.

"Well, that's a shame because…" Brendan gazes at Stephen's mouth.

"Because?" Stephen enquires with an arch of his eyebrow. For a split second this feels all wrong, flirting with Brendan like this, wanting him, but the thought disappears as quickly as it appears as Brendan smiles down at him. Stephen realises that in all this, there is one constant for him now. This man. Something changed between them last night Stephen realises with clarity.

"Well, because I was hoping that…"Brendan bites his lip.

Stephen cannot stop himself from laughing at this. "You're not shy now, Officer Brady?" He laughs. Is it too soon for such jokes?

Brendan looks at him warmly, but goes to move. "Oh well, if you don't want…" He doesn't finish the words as Stephen grasps him and pulls him back.

"I never said that." Stephen practically purrs. Stephen locks eyes with Brendan, his lips parting gently before he moves closer and brushes his lips against Brendan's. As Stephen pulls away, Brendan inhales and licks his owns lips.

"Well then…" he drawls as he pulls Stephen to him.

Brendan lies back as Stephen straddles him. Brendan's eyes are locked on to Stephen's and his pupils are dilated. Stephen raises himself up and then pushes down slowly on to Brendan's cock causing him to exhale. "God, Stephen."

"Do you like that?" Stephen's voice is soft, low. "Me on top like this?"

Brendan watches him unspeaking.

"Tell me." Stephen breathes out the words and stops moving, he places his hands on Brendan's chest.

Brendan parts his lips and cannot stop the look of frustration that creeps onto his features. "Yes, I like it. You feel amazing. Don't stop."

"Good." Stephen's voice is practically a sigh. He starts to move again. His rhythm is slow and he is taking Brendan in fully, his stomach muscles tightening as he rides Brendan. "You feel so good, Brendan." Stephen looks down and locks eyes with the man beneath him. "Your cock feels amazing inside me."

Brendan closes his eyes and gives himself over to the sensations that Stephen is creating in his body. Stephen takes his own cock in his hand and begins to pump in time with his movements. He feels his climax as it builds. Suddenly, his hand is batted away as Brendan stops him from touching himself. "No, just from this," Brendan's voice is low. "I want you to come just from my cock inside you." Stephen looks into Brendan's eyes as he gazes down upon him. Stephen grinds down now meeting Brendan's thrusts. It's almost too much for Stephen, his whole body is sensitive and on edge. Soon, the pace they set is relentless and with each thrust he feels he is coming apart. Suddenly, Brendan sits up grasping Stephen to him, thrusting harder up into him. "Come for me, Stephen." His voice is ragged. Stephen looks into Brendan's eyes as he comes hard.

"God, Brendan," he breathes. He pauses for a moment as he rides out the waves of his orgasm. Brendan gives him a moment before he begins to move again, never breaking eye contact with him. Brendan thrusts into Stephen. Stephen twitches and writhes, his whole body feels alive. He slumps forward a little and grasps Brendan. "God." He repeats the word softly this time his voice barely there. "I think I lo..."

Brendan pulls back at this and stares into his eyes. "Stephen?" he questions.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said..."

Brendan flips him now and he's on his back. Brendan braces his arms and pushes hard into him. He drops his mouth to Stephen's ear. "I think I love you too." His voice is a whisper as he thrusts deep and hard before his own orgasm rushes through him.

They lie for a while Stephen can feel Brendan's fingers soothing his skin. It feels unreal, like they are in a bubble and at any moment, it's going to be popped. Stephen sighs and runs his fingers through his hair. "Brendan, I need my phone."

Pop.

Brendan moves so he can look fully at Stephen. "Your phone?" he questions.

"Yes, it's Walker. He'll be suspicious if he's texted and I haven't answered." Stephen can see Brendan's jaw tense as he speaks.

"So? What does it matter? You don't have to worry about Walker anymore, Stephen."

Stephen sighs and pushes himself up to sitting. He had hoped that this could have gone on for a bit longer, but he knew deep down that it couldn't last. "Brendan. You don't have proof that Walker killed Joel. I'm not stupid. If you did, then Walker would be in prison by now."

Brendan moves and sits facing Stephen. "Stephen, what are you saying?" He looks concerned.

"I want to help you, Brendan. Walker killed Joel and Joel was my friend. I want to help you make him pay for what he's done." Stephen's voice is cool, determined.

"No, Stephen." Brendan strokes his moustache as he thinks. "It's too dangerous. He's too dangerous. You're right though, we haven't got enough proof yet, and that's why I've been sent in."

Stephen reaches out to Brendan. "So, let me help Brendan. I can help; I work at the club. I have access to places that you don't. I want to do this." Stephen's voice takes on a pleading tone.

"Stephen. No." Brendan's voice is low and he turns his eyes from him.

Stephen takes his face gently and makes him look at him. "Let me do this."

Brendan sits silently; his eyes become dark and pensive. Quietly, he speaks "If I agree to this, Stephen, you have to do as I say. No taking unnecessary risks."

"Of course. I'm not stupid. I don't want to get hurt, but I don't want him to hurt anyone else either." Stephen thinks about the photograph of Doug he saw on the wall in Brendan's cupboard. His stomach knots, he likes Doug. The kid's harmless he's sure.

"I'm not sure about this." Brendan sighs.

"Let me help." Stephen pleads again. The air between them is thick.

Brendan doesn't speak and he seems torn as he sits by Stephen's side. Eventually, he lets out a long breath. "Ok." Brendan's voice is quiet as he continues. "But, I want you to know something. This. What's happening between us, it wasn't part of the plan. Ever. Do you understand?"

"I know." Stephen places a kiss to Brendan's lips. "Whatever this is, I don't think either of us planned it, Brendan." Stephen's voice is earnest and Brendan smiles at him now.

"We have to go back, don't we?"

"Yes."

Later, after they have made love once more, eaten and fed the cat Brendan locks the door of the cottage behind them. It's late afternoon now. They get into the car and it purrs into life as they race away down the winding roads. The breeze feels a little cooler Stephen notes, maybe the heat of the summer is finally breaking? They don't speak as they make their way back to the village and this time Brendan does not put the radio on. They sit in silence, but it is neither uncomfortable nor awkward. As they finally start to approach streets Stephen is familiar with, he glances at Brendan. Brendan's eyes are fixed on the road. "Drop me off near my flat, ok? I have to shower and get changed before I go to the club."

Brendan lets out a breath. "Has he been in touch? How will you explain disappearing yesterday?"

Stephen had checked his phone soon after Brendan had returned it to him. Stephen speaks calmly now. "He called and sent me a text. It was nothing really. I'll just say I started feeling unwell and had to leave. They have Mercedes to cover for me if I'm not there. Don't worry about Walker, I can handle him."

Brendan snaps his glance to Stephen at this. "Don't underestimate him, Stephen. "

"I don't underestimate anyone, Brendan." Stephen gives Brendan a small smile, but Brendan does not return it.

Soon, they are near to Stephen's flat and Brendan pulls the car over to a stop. "I'll speak to you later and please, don't worry." Stephen goes to leave the car, but suddenly Brendan reaches for him.

"I'm not going to let anyone hurt you, Stephen."

Stephen gazes into Brendan's eyes. It's like no one else exists. "I know." He kisses him then, passionately making them both breathless. "Be careful. Brendan." Stephen releases the handle of the door and climbs out. He walks quickly to his flat and goes inside without looking back once.

Stephen almost imagines that he will open the door of his flat to find Walker sitting there waiting for him. He was not honest with Brendan. He was not calm about facing Walker again and he did not know how he would react to Stephen's sudden disappearance yesterday. Walker does not like surprises, Stephen knows that. Walker had not called him yesterday, but he had sent one text. "Where are you?" that was all it had said. As Stephen enters his flat, there is no sign of Walker. Stephen realises he is more relieved at this than he had thought he would be. He makes himself a drink and turns the shower on whilst he strips.

Under the warm stream of water Stephen remembers how it felt to make love with Brendan. How his hands had touched every part of him, how his lips had tasted and savoured him. He also remembers his shock at finding out that Brendan was an undercover policeman. There is a part of him that wonders if he should be angrier with Brendan for his deception, but he finds he can't be angry. Stephen also remembers the last time he was with Walker, the way he had turned up at his flat, nearly late and had him against the balcony rail. The truth is, that Stephen knew, he now realises, that Walker was using him. He feels this clearly now. It's this that partly fuels his desire to hurt Walker and get some kind of revenge he realises not just the desire to see justice for Joel. After showering, he dresses, checks his phone again. Nothing. He leaves his flat. The walk to the club allows him to clear his head and calm his nerves.

As he walks up the stairs to the second floor, Stephen feels his pulse quicken. He has done this too many times to count, but tonight is different. Everything has changed. He approaches the bar and spots Leanne behind placing glasses on the shelf. Hearing someone approach she turns and stands quickly. "Stephen! Where have you been? I was worried about you, you just took off."

Stephen speaks clearly. "I felt ill, I think it's the heat. It's really getting to me. I feel a lot better now though." He lies and smiles a small smile at Leanne and she seems to believe his story. "Did he ask about me?" He signals Walker's office with a nod of his head.

Leanne's eyes drop at this. "He wasn't happy. Mercedes had to cover for you." She takes a cloth now and begins to wipe some glasses. "You'd better be extra sorry." She smiles at him.

"Ok, thanks. I will be." Stephen turns and walks away from the bar. He thinks to himself, it isn't me that's going to be sorry. He approaches Walker's office door now and stops outside it. Stephen takes a breath and squares his shoulders before knocking.

"Come in." Walker's voice calls out.

As Stephen walks in, he is aware that Walker is not alone. Doug is also in the office. Doug looks flustered and moves away from Walker who is sitting at his desk. Walker stares at Stephen. "Thank you, Douglas. That will be all." His face is set in an unpleasant smile that doesn't reach his eyes. Douglas coughs and walks out quickly. "Yes, Mr Walker." He does not look at Stephen as he leaves.

Walker continues to stare at Stephen. There is silence.

"Well." Walker speaks eventually. "Where exactly have you been?"


	8. Consequences Pt1

Hi! Thank you so much for all the lovely reviews and I am so sorry for the delay in posting. Thank you for your patience and I hope you like this. I actually really enjoyed writing this chapter. It's moving the plot along stuff really. If you get a chance to leave me a review that would be great, I love reading them. #StendanForever – Sutts - xx

No action is free of consequence. Hollyoaks Village is not exempt from this rule. At times, although it might seem to be operating by a different set of rules, rules of its own making. It isn't. Ultimately, all debts have to be paid; all scores have to be settled. For anything else to happen, would be wrong. The bad must be punished and the good must triumph…

"Well." Walker speaks eventually. "Where exactly have you been?"

Stephen feels Walker's eyes fix on him. They bore into him and Stephen shifts his weight slightly, barely noticeably, under Walker's gaze. The office is hot and there is a smell in the air that Stephen finds hard to determine. It's booze, cigarettes, aftershave and something else…

There is silence again. It is not comfortable.

"Well?" Walker repeats. His voice is a command; there is no trace of concern. "Stephen?"

Stephen lets out a slight breath. "I'm sorry about last night." His words tumble out quickly. "I felt really sick. I think it's this heat; I had to get out. Clear my head." Stephen strives to keep his eyes on Walker, he wants there to be no question that his words are the truth.

Walker does not respond. He just sits and watches Stephen. Stephen is unsure whether to speak again. He decides not to and instead chances a small smile at Walker. Walker continues to stare hard at him. Eventually, he too gives a smile; Stephen is struck by how joyless Walker's smile is. He sees it now. There is nothing in his eyes, but pure ice.

"Ok." Walker nods his head now and looks down for the first time. He pauses again. "Ok. Sick. You left us with a bit of a problem though, Stephen. It was a good job Mercedes was here to cover for you." He looks up again and catches Stephen with his ice blue eyes.

"I'm really sorry. I thought I was going to pass out. It just came on so suddenly. It won't happen again, I promise." Although his stomach feels as if it is in knots, Stephen tries desperately to make his story sound as convincing as possible. He takes a couple of steps closer to Walker's desk in a show of seeking his boss's forgiveness.

Walker falls silent again, but the rigidity of his stance softens a little. Stephen although fearful of thinking his lies have 100% convinced Walker, begins to sense his words and actions are working. He lets out a small breath.

"So, where did you go?" Walker's eyes rise slowly.

The question stops Stephen in his tracks. Both movement and thought seems to freeze. He fights to keep his face even and his breath from pouring out. He holds his hands together. "Well," he speaks slowly. "I went for a walk first… and then I went… home." He stops.

Walker's face registers nothing. No emotion, no tell-tale sign of his thoughts. Stephen thinks to himself now how he has always realised this. Reading Walker is practically impossible.

"So, you didn't go anywhere else? See anyone?"

Stephen feels that each question is a trap. A trap that could snap on him and find him never able to escape. He thinks hard for a moment.

"No. I just went home."

Walker cocks his eyebrow.

Stephen remembers. "I did see Doug. Douglas. Out back, by the fire escape. I spoke to him before I went."

Walker's gaze falters slightly now. What is it they say? The best way to lie is base it on some grain of truth. Stephen's answer seems to satisfy Walker and he shifts in his seat. "Well, just make sure it doesn't happen again, Stephen. " Walker's voice is even and steady. It sends a chill down Stephen's spine.

Stephen nods slowly. "It won't."

Walker continues to stare at him and Stephen pauses before he makes to move. "I want you here tonight." Walker's voice is sharp. "I'm hosting a special, what shall we call it? Get together. With some very important people. I want you here."

Stephen feels his stomach lurch. "Of course. Is there any particular song order…"

Walker interrupts him. "Oh, you're not going to _perform_." Bile rises in Stephen's throat at the way Walker emphasises the last word. "I want you with me. By my side. As I said, these are very important people. I want to make sure that they are impressed, Stephen."

Stephen feels the knots in his stomach tighten. "Of course, Simon. I'll need to go home and change."

"There won't be any need for that." Walker's voice is hard, determined. "I have had an outfit delivered to your dressing room." Walker stands now and moves from behind his desk. He approaches Stephen slowly. He stands in front of Stephen and again, Stephen feels that his every movement, every reaction is being scrutinised. "It's a beautiful Italian cut. You will be a sight to behold, I'm sure." As he speaks, Walker reaches out and traces a line along Stephen's jaw. "Beautiful." He whispers.

Stephen feels his heart pound in his chest. He wants to push Walker, shout at him and run from the office. But he does none of these; he closes his eyes for a moment and allows Walker to caress his skin. Stephen opens his eyes, he can feel Walker's breath ghost across his cheek. "Thank you." His voice is low and he fights to keep it steady. "I'll go and get ready then."

Walker drops his hand from Stephen's face and steps back. Suddenly, he is all business. "Yes. Everything needs to be ready. Tonight is very important, Stephen." Stephen senses that Walker's mind has moved to other things. Cautiously, Stephen turns and walks to the office door. As he grasps the handle, he thinks that Walker might call him back, but he does not. He turns the handle and pushes open the door. He walks out and does not look back.

As he sits in his dressing room, tears prick Stephen's eyes. He feels sick. He let Walker touch him again. He thinks about how he had smiled at him and feigned guilt for letting Walker down. His lies had flowed so easily. Stephen feels the bile rise in his throat again. Walker is a killer. How could he bear to be in the same room as him? Let alone let himself be touched by him? He glances across at the suit that is hanging from a hook by the side of his dressing table. It is a beautiful soft grey. There is a pale blue shirt, no tie, but Italian leather shoes. He won't need to go home. He smiles wryly. The tears prick his eyes again as the thought lodges in his brain. Maybe he'll never go home again? Stephen shakes the thought from his mind. He sighs to himself, this is what he wanted. He convinced Brendan to let him help and let him come back. Brendan hadn't wanted him to, but he had insisted. Stephen realises for the first time that maybe Brendan was right. He also realises that this is the first time he has allowed himself to think about Brendan since setting foot back in the club. Maybe he should not have come back? He stands now and tries to remove these thoughts from his mind with a swipe of his hand across his face. He looks into the mirror and is surprised at what he sees reflected back. He looks tired, pale. He steels himself. A thought springs into his mind. His friend: Joel.

Later, after he has showered Stephen feels much better. He dresses in the clothes picked by Walker and surveys himself in the mirror. As he moves to the door, he pauses as he hears muffled voices in the corridor. It is Walker. Stephen feels his whole body go on alert. He looks to the door handle, expecting it to turn. It does not. The voices fade and he opens the door quietly before he glances out into the corridor. He catches sight of a man, one of Walker's heavies rounding the corner at the end of the passage. Stephen looks down and makes a decision. He came back to help Brendan to help Joel. He is not going to be of any use hiding away in his dressing room. He needs to find something. Something that will help. With that thought, Stephen walks quickly off towards Walker's office.

The club is quiet and as Stephen glances around there is no sign of anyone. He approaches Walker's door silently. Stephen takes one last look over his shoulder and pushes the door open before he walks in.

Stephen has been in Walker's office many times. He does not want to consider some of those times now. He moves quickly to the desk. He pulls open drawers and quickly pushes papers aside as he searches. He stops suddenly. Walker is not stupid. Unlocked drawers are not going to contain what he needs. He scans the room now. Walker has a safe; it's in the wall behind Walker's chair. Stephen considers this. Walker opens the safe constantly throughout the day and anyone could glance in as Stephen himself has done on a few occasions. Would Walker hide things in such plain sight? Stephen breathes and brushes his hand through his hair. Would Walker hide anything here? Stephen leans back against the desk slightly. He is about to leave the office when he is struck by something. He realises that he has never really noticed it before. He has been this side of the desk quite often. He blushes now at memories of him and Walker and what caused him to be on this side of the desk; on his knees. He drives these thoughts from his mind. It's the large picture on the wall opposite. It's a painting. It's a night scene. A large lake illuminated by a blue moon hanging icily in the sky. Stephen feels his eyes drawn to it. He's never really been aware of it before. He moves towards it slowly now. He is struck by it. He gazes at it, pulled in by its calm, tranquility. He reaches out and feels it give way under his fingers. As he pushes it to the side, it moves easily. It's then Stephen sees it. A second safe behind the picture. Stephen's breath catches in his throat. He hears a noise then outside. He places the picture back making sure that is hanging exactly as he found it and moves quickly back around the desk. His smile is barely in place as Walker strides into the office.

Walker stops momentarily and eyes Stephen warily. "Stephen?"

Stephen has to think fast. "I just wanted to come and say sorry again, Simon. I know I let you down and it won't happen again." Stephen forces the smile to his lips and fights to keep it there. "Oh." He moves towards Walker now and parts his lips slightly. "I wanted to say thank you for the suit too. It's beautiful." Stephen steps into Walker's space now and lets out a small breath.

Walker stands still and does not reply. Stephen gazes into Walker's eyes, he wets his lips slightly. "Thank you." Stephen raises himself up and places a kiss on Walker's lips. Walker eyes dart down to Stephen's face and Stephen smiles sweetly this time. Walker lets out a breath and moves towards Stephen. Stephen feels his stomach lurch.

"Mr Walker?" Douglas's voice rings in the air. "The first of your guests has arrived."

Walker glances towards the door. "Ok, Douglas." He sighs. "I'm coming." Walker glances back at Stephen. "We'll pick this up later, shall we?" Walker's pupils are dilated and his eyes dark.

Stephen smiles again, his voice is breathy. "Of course. It's probably for the best anyway. You wouldn't want me to ruin my suit."

Walker smiles at this and Stephen feels himself relax a little. "Let's go and greet our guests, Stephen." Stephen feels Walker's hands in the small of his back and he allows himself to be pushed to the door. Now as he isn't facing Walker, the smile fades from his face as he walks out of the office once more.

As they walk back into the club, Stephen can see who the first of the evening's guests are. Jack Osborne and his son, Darren. He also sees now that a gambling table has been set up in the far corner of the club. Stephen quickly surveys the table there are five chairs around it. Jack owns a bar in the Village. A second rate place in comparison to Walker's club. No competition at all.

"Jack!" Walker's voice is friendly, warm even and he reaches out his hand to Jack as they approach. Leanne hovers around the men taking their coats from them. "Please, come and sit. What will you have to drink?"

Walker exudes confidence as he manages the scene. "You remember, Stephen, don't you?"

Stephen smiles as he is introduced. Jack and Darren each shake him by the hand and move towards the table. "It's good to see you, Walker?" Jack's Scottish brogue breaks the silence.

"And you, old friend." Walker's voice is honey sweet. Stephen feels himself bridle a little at the sound. "Let's hope you don't lose as big as last time, eh, Darren?" Both Jack and Walker laugh at this, but Stephen can see a slight blush rise in Darren's cheeks. It is well known around the Village that he has a weakness for women and horses. If it wasn't for his father's forgiving nature, who knows what would have become of the younger Osborne by now?

The next guest to arrive is another local businessman, Tony Hutchinson. Entrepreneur and restaurant owner. Tony has a habit of letting money (and women) slip through his fingers. He is a likeable man, Stephen has met him on many occasions and found him hard not to like. Stephen surveys the men as they chat and begin to drink. Walker watches them silently and Stephen can't help, but think that it is like watching a tiger surveying its next meal.

There is one chair left at the round table, Stephen moves to sit down, but Walker stops him. "No, Stephen. That seat's taken."

Stephen thinks for a moment. Who is the fifth seat reserved for? The answer hits him suddenly as the voice he wasn't expecting to hear tonight rises above the others around the table.

"Evening, Walker."

Stephen feels his pulse quicken and his heart hammers in his chest so hard that he fears it might be loud enough to hear.

"Brendan! So glad you could make it." Walker's voice sounds sincere.

"Wouldn't miss it." Brendan's voice, Stephen notes, also sounds sincere.

Stephen glances across at Brendan. Brendan does not look at him, but shakes the hands of the men around the table before sitting himself down in the fifth seat. Stephen stirs at the sight of him; he is wearing a dark suit, white shirt open at the collar revealing the cross that nestles at his throat. His dark hair and moustache look smooth and silky and for a split second Stephen remembers the feel of that softness against his skin and suppresses a small sigh.

Walker's voice cuts in to Stephen's thoughts. "You remember, Stephen, don't you, Brendan?"

Stephen feels Walker's arm snake around his shoulder in a possessive gesture.

"Of course." Brendan's eyes meet Stephen's and they lock on his. Stephen notes the merest hint of a smile in Brendan's eyes and feels himself relax a little. Everything will be ok, he thinks to himself. Now, that Brendan is here. Stephen smiles.


	9. Consequences Pt2

Hi! Here we go then folks, the next part. Thank you so much for all the reviews – I really appreciate them and love reading them. Please, drop me a line if you have the time! Sutts xx

Part 2

The beads of sweat that form on Darren Osborne's forehead are not due to the heat, but to the fact that he is losing again. It is unfortunate for him, Stephen muses that he is clearly addicted to gambling because he is terrible at it. Stephen is not an expert at cards, but even he can see Darren's tells. Jack looks at his son in exasperation as he again throws caution to the wind with a losing hand. Stephen watches the men around the table: Tony with his easy going manners, Jack quiet and reserved, Darren all fake bravado and arrogance and the final two, Walker and Brendan. Stephen is stood to the side of Walker, he cannot clearly see his face, but he knows that he is smiling, nodding giving the men the encouragement they need to bury themselves deeper and deeper. Stephen looks at Brendan. Brendan is not smiling. Stephen watches him closely. The smile that was evident in Brendan's eyes only an hour or two ago has gone. He looks calm, but focussed.

Stephen's glass is almost empty he takes his drink and walks over to the bar. He needs to speak to Brendan about what he saw in Walker's office, but now, is clearly not the time. He can see Douglas as he approaches. He's surprised that Douglas is there, he is not the club's most accomplished barman. Douglas is setting up another round of drinks. As Stephen walks across the floor, he feels a faint, cool breeze from the fire escape door that is open to the side of the small dance floor. He stops for a moment and leans into the cool breeze. It is a welcome relief from the oppression he feels that has little to do with the stifling heat. The sounds of the Village travel up on the night's air: there is laughter and chatter. For a moment Stephen feels a little shocked. It had seemed like this room was the only place that existed.

Stephen approaches the bar, but does not sit. Instead he places his drink on the bar and waits for Douglas to approach. As he waits, he turns his back and leans against the bar.

"What can I get you?" Douglas asks.

Stephen turns to face him. Douglas has such large eyes that when you look at him they are pretty much all you see. There is no smile on Douglas' lips.

"I'll have another one of those, please." Stephen pushes his glass across the bar. "I didn't realise you were working tonight."

Douglas takes Stephen's glass and looks at him. "Mr Walker asked me. I wasn't going to turn down the extra money." Douglas speaks quickly and then turns and begins to pour Stephen's drink. Stephen notices that Douglas is much steadier as he pours, there is no drink spilled this time.

Stephen smiles and speaks. "I wasn't judging you, Doug. I know what it's like, every bit helps."

Douglas turns back to him and places a mat on the bar before putting his drink down. "Yeah, well. As I say, I need the money."

Stephen picks up the drink and takes a sip. He feels a little uneasy. Is there something in Douglas' tone? Is there something a bit off with him? Stephen's mind darts back to his last night in the club. Did Douglas see something?

"Will this heat ever end?" Stephen ventures.

Douglas looks him in the eye. "If you can't stand the heat, what it is they say… get out of the kitchen? Or … the club in this case."

Stephen eventually smiles at the joke and nods. "Fair point." Stephen looks at Douglas now. There is definitely something.

"I have to get these drinks ready. Is there anything else?"

"No. Thanks." Stephen takes his drink and turns back towards the poker table.

As Stephen approaches the table, Darren slams his cards down on the table in frustration. "That's it for tonight." Jack's voice is clear. "Come on, son. We're leaving." The tone of Jack's voice makes it clear there is to be no discussion on this point.

Jack and Darren stand as does Walker. He shakes Jack's hand. "Sorry it hasn't been your night." There is no sincerity in Walker's voice.

"You win some, you lose some." Jack says sportingly as he all but pushes Darren away from the table.

Walker smiles broadly and turns to Stephen. "It's you." He says.

"What?" Stephen questions.

Walker places his hand on Stephen's hips and pulls him towards him. "It's you." Walker repeats as he looks at Stephen. "You're my good luck charm." Walker smiles and looks into Stephen's eyes.

Stephen averts his eyes and looks down. "Don't be silly." He says quietly.

Walker places a hand to Stephen's chin and raises his face up. He practically purrs as he gazes at Stephen. He then leans slowly forward and places a kiss on Stephen's lips. Stephen feels his cheeks burn as the blush rises in them. "Simon." Stephen gasps. He can taste Bourbon on Walker's lips.

"Are we going to play another hand?" Tony's voice breaks the silence.

Walker stands looking at Stephen, his lips slightly parted and his hands still on his hips. "Of course." He says without looking from Stephen. He laughs and turns back to the table. "Of course."

Stephen moves now. Taking a sip of his drink, he dares to look around. His eyes move to Brendan. Brendan has his glass raised and downs it in one go. He slams the glass down. "I need another." He growls.

Stephen watches as Tony is made to regret his decision to play on.

"That's me done." Tony announces as he places his cards down on the table. "I can't live with this pace." He stands and takes his jacket from the back of the chair. "It was nice to meet you, Brendan." He turns and shakes Brendan by the hand. "Walker, we'll do this again soon, ok?"

"Of course, Tony. Give you a chance to win some of your money back." Walker smiles broadly.

"Yes, very funny." Tony says as he slowly walks away.

Walker turns to face Brendan now. "So, it's just me and you, Brendan." He sits back down at the table and faces Brendan in the dimmed light. "Do you feel like raising the stakes?"

Brendan stares at Walker. He sits back in the chair and only his eyes are clearly visible in the shady light of the club. Brendan lets out a breath. "I thought you'd never ask." He answers. He reaches out and taps a cigarette from the packet on the table. He flicks the lighter and his features are lit momentarily, it reminds Stephen of their first meeting. "I'm just going to stretch my legs." Brendan pushes away from the table and stands up. He saunters away towards the open door of the fire escape. Stephen's breath catches for a moment. He cannot take his eyes from Brendan's retreating form. Walker sits in silence before he eventually speaks. "I will be back in a moment. Keep our guest entertained, Stephen."

Walker walks away into his office. Stephen thinks for a moment about what to do. Should he approach Brendan and try to speak to him about what he discovered earlier? Leanne approaches the table to clear the empty glasses. She looks over at Brendan as she speaks; a plume of smoke rises into the air from his lips. "Funny one, that one. "

Stephen looks quickly at her. "What do you mean?"

Leanne clears the glasses and speaks quietly. "He's just so cool and collected. Also, he's winning quite a lot. Most men lose a bit more around… the boss." As she speaks, Brendan moves back towards the table. "Can I get you another drink, Mr Brady?" Leanne asks as he approaches.

Brendan stares straight at Stephen. "Yes, I'll have another whiskey. Make it a double." He stands and makes no move to sit down. Leanne looks from Brendan to Stephen and back again for a moment before she walks off towards the bar.

Stephen bites his lip. "You're a very accomplished card player, Mr Brady." He stares into Brendan's eyes and motions slightly towards Walker's office door.

"Thank you, Stephen. I have many talents I assure you." The edge in Brendan's voice is unmistakable. Stephen laughs a little despite himself.

"I'm sure you do." Stephen answers archly.

"And what about you, Stephen? Do you play?" Brendan's voice is low.

Stephen shakes his head slightly. "No. No I don't. "

Brendan takes a step towards Stephen now. "That's a shame." Brendan reaches out and for a split second his fingers touch Stephen's hand. Stephen feels himself shiver as he looks up into Brendan's eyes. A faint smile plays on Brendan's lips. Stephen feels instantly safer.

"Brendan…?" Stephen's voice is a whisper.

"Oh, so you two are getting better acquainted are you?" Walker's voice is sharp and loud. Stephen backs away from Brendan quickly.

"We were just talking about the game." Stephen tries hard to keep his voice steady. "If you'll excuse me, I need to go and..." Stephen smiles at Walker and walks off quickly towards the toilets.

Stephen walks into the cubicle, locks the door and then leans back against it. He feels as if he has been holding his breath and in truth he probably has. His legs feel weak. This is too much he thinks. Why did he convince Brendan to let him come back to the club? He isn't built for this. Who is he kidding? In the safety of Brendan's arms he'd thought he could help. Help to bring Walker to justice. Help Joel. But the reality is different. He knows that it is pure fear he is feeling every time Walker looks at him. When Walker kissed him, he felt like he wanted to scream or be sick or both. Stephen rubs his face with his hands. No, he needs to get away he decides. Brendan will have to do this on his own.

He flushes the unused toilet and steps out from the cubicle. He can hear music softly playing now; it's coming from the sound system in the club. It's a bluesy number. Stephen turns to the sink and turns the tap. Water begins to spill into the sink. The sound of a saxophone rises over the sound of the water as it runs away. Stephen reaches down and cups his hands. He takes some water and splashes it on to his face. It is cool and he savours it for a moment. He takes another handful and splashes his face once more before standing up straight.

He gasps as he sees the man reflected in the mirror: the man who is now silently standing behind him. Stephen locks eyes with the man. There is silence save for the music which creeps into the room.

"Doug. I didn't hear you come in. What are you doing here?" Stephen speaks quickly, too quickly his panic making his words rush from him. "Doug?" Stephen repeats.

Douglas looks at Stephen for a moment before he speaks. "Hey, Stephen." The soft American accent is in place; the eyes soft and blue, a smile on the lips, but then a change comes over Douglas. "Who am I kidding?" Douglas' voice becomes cool; his eyes too. "You really are so beautiful, Stephen." Douglas reaches his hand out to touch Stephen's shoulder.

Stephen flinches from the touch and spins around. "What are you doing, Doug? Why are you here?" Stephen feels fear rising in him. The music still plays in the background.

"I understand it." Douglas' voice is steady.

"Understand what, Doug? Doug, you're scaring me. Why are you here?" Stephen feels trapped. He is trapped, Douglas blocks his way.

"I understand why, why they all want you. Look at you." Douglas reaches out again and this time Stephen is unable to move from the touch. Douglas places his hand to Stephen's face and touches his cheek gently. As Stephen looks up, he looks into Douglas' eyes they are not the eyes he is familiar with. They are colder, more determined. "So beautiful." Douglas breathes lightly. "This won't hurt, Stephen."

At these words, Stephen springs to life. He tries to push past Douglas, but finds himself held back by strong arms. How can this be the same man? This man in front of him, holding him is not the affable American he is used to. "Doug, you're hurting me." Stephen winces. Stephen tries hard to fight, but he is no match for Douglas. Douglas punches him in the stomach. As Stephen coughs and doubles over, Douglas pins his arms and spins him around. Stephen faces the mirror, his stomach lurches as Douglas pushes against him. "You need to stop struggling, Stephen. I don't want to hurt you."

Stephen feels sick. Douglas uses one hand to pin Stephen's two behind him. Stephen's mind races. The music is still playing outside. Outside. Brendan. As Stephen opens his mouth to shout, Douglas reads his mind. His hand comes round to Stephen's mouth and covers it. Not just a hand, Douglas is holding something in his hand Stephen sees. It's a handkerchief and Douglas places it over Stephen's mouth. There is a funny smell now and Stephen watches his reflection in the mirror. It's like he is watching somebody else as he struggles and that is all he remembers, that and the sound of the saxophone, as everything goes black.

Stephen wakes and opens his eyes slowly, it is dark and his vision is blurred. He tries to work out where he is, but feels dazed and confused. He closes his eyes again and thinks. The last thing he remembers is being in the toilet with Douglas. There had been music playing and Brendan was… his eyes shoot open now. "Brendan?" the word leaves his mouth before he can stop it. He feels his head being moved upwards.

"Oh, don't worry. He's here." Stephen shakes at the sound of the voice.

Stephen fights to open his eyes. Whatever Douglas drugged him with is making him feel as if he's swimming underwater, unable to fight free. "Walker?" Stephen's vision begins to clear in the dimness and the shadow he sees emerges and stands in front of him.

"Who else?" Walker stands in front of him now. He's smiling at Stephen.

Stephen tries to rub his eyes. He realises that he cannot as he feels the ropes that bind his arms together. He is sat on a chair. He is tied to the chair. He looks around now. The room is unfamiliar; Walker speaks quietly as he moves away from Stephen. Stephen realises that Douglas is standing by the far door.

"This is the cellar of the club, Stephen." Walker's voice is cold. "I'm surprised that you've never been down here before." Walker stops and turns. "Given your desire to discover things…" Walker leaves the words trailing as he flicks a light on. Stephen sees the desk; there are numerous television screens in front of it. Stephen's stomach lurches as he realises what he can see. "Oh, yes. You're a regular Jessica Fletcher." Walker continues as he flicks more switches and the screens come to life.

As Stephen watches, he realises that his every move has been being filmed, by the hidden cameras that seem to be everywhere in the club. By the dance floor, on the ground floor, his dressing room, Walker's office…

Walker taps a screen. The screen shows Stephen rifling through the desk in Walker's office. There is no sound, but then no sound is needed. There is little point denying anything and so Stephen decides not to. "Where's Brendan?" He asks.

Walker's eyes flash as he turns to Stephen. "Oh, Brendan! -" Walker reaches and turns on a final screen. "He's…a little tied up at the moment." Walker giggles at his joke.

Stephen gasps.

Brendan is tied to a chair, his face is bloodied; his right eye is already closing. He is struggling against his binding, the chair he is sat on moving under him. As there is no volume, Stephen cannot hear the word that Brendan is clearly shouting as he struggles and writhes, but if he could hear he would hear only one word, repeated.

"Stephen!"


	10. Completed

Here we go then folks, the final chapter. Just want to say a BIG thank you to all of you who have read and reviewed my fic. A big thank you to all the guest reviewers too! Hope you enjoy it. Sutts x

Stephen struggles for a moment to fully comprehend what is happening. He is tied to a chair in the cellar of The Blue Moon. Brendan, battered and bruised is somewhere else also tied up. He looks to Walker and then to Douglas.

"Walker… Simon… there's been a misunderstanding. Please untie me and I'll explain." Stephen's mind is racing now. He says anything.

Walker slowly walks towards him. He stops and stands silently in front of Stephen. "A misunderstanding is it? Go on then, Stephen. Explain things to me." Walker's voice is calm and reveals no emotion.

Stephen struggles once more against his bindings. "I can't speak when I'm all tied up like this."

Walker scrutinises Stephen's face. "I don't understand, Stephen. You can speak. I haven't gagged you… yet."

Stephen feels panic rise in him. "No, I don't mean that I can't speak… it's just…" words are failing him now as fear spreads through him. "Please, untie me…" Stephen's voice rises shrilly.

Walker remains silent and watches him. Eventually, he smiles and speaks. "Oh, I'm not going to untie you, Stephen. I'm going to have a word with our mutual friend, Mr Brady, and then I'll be back. I wouldn't want you to have… gone anywhere in my absence." Walker turns to Douglas and motions for them to leave.

Stephen struggles violently against his bindings, but he cannot free himself. "What are you going to do to Brendan? Don't hurt him!" Stephen's voice rises.

Walker turns back to Stephen at this. "How touching." His eyes are blue ice. "Don't worry, Stephen. You'll be able to see everything." He taps the TV screen. "Right here."

Douglas speaks now. "But I thought we were going to have some fun." He looks at Stephen; a terrible smile plays on his lips. Stephen feels like he is going to be sick.

Walker stands next to Douglas now. "Oh, there'll be plenty of time for that. Once we've seen to Brady. Come on." He walks to the door and walks quickly out of it.

Douglas stands and stares at Stephen. His eyes glint in the dimness of the cellar. "Don't go anywhere, ok?" Douglas laughs a little at his joke as he walks out of the door.

Stephen turns to look around himself now. Nothing. There is nothing behind him, just crates. In front of him, there is the desk and bank of TV screens. He looks to them now; Brendan is still shouting and struggling against his own bindings. Stephen's blood runs cold as he sees Walker and Douglas enter the room. Walker looks into the camera and smiles. Stephen increases his struggling and he can feel blood starting to ooze down his tied wrists. He ignores the pain: he must get free.

Stephen tries not to look at the screen. Douglas has a baseball bat. Walker is stood by Brendan, but it is Douglas who is raining blows on Brendan. His face. His torso. Stephen feels vomit rise in his throat as he sees the blood pour down Brendan's face. "No! No!" he cries, but there is no one to hear his screams.

"Stephen?" the door opens and Leanne quietly comes into the cellar. "Stephen?"

For a moment, Stephen thinks he has imagined it. Leanne standing there, but when she speaks again and moves towards him, he realises she is no figment. "Stephen. Jesus, what's going on?" She moves to him quickly now and surveys his tied arms.

"What are you doing here? Why? I don't understand…" words rush out of Stephen as he looks at his friend.

"We don't really have time for this now. I saw Doug putting something in Brendan's drink… and well, let's say I didn't really want to leave you alone here… there's something about Doug I've never trusted…" as she speaks she moves behind Stephen and begins to untie his hands. "Jesus, is that Brendan?" Her voice is shocked as she stares at the TV monitor.

"Please, untie me. I need to help him. They're going to kill him…" Stephen's throat rises and falls as his heart hammers against his chest. On the TV screen, Douglas stops mid-air and drops the bat to his side. He turns and walks out of the room. Stephen sees that Walker is talking to Brendan, jabbing a finger into his chest. "He's coming back. Leanne, you need to hide!" Stephen's voice is shrill. Leanne runs to the back of the cellar and hides behind the crates. Stephen sits and faces the door once more. He places his hands behind his back and waits for Douglas to enter. As he waits, he glances at the screen. Walker is still talking into Brendan's ear as his head lolls back. Stephen fears there isn't much time. Douglas enters the room. He still has the baseball bat in his hand. Stephen sees the blood on it.

Douglas leers at Stephen as he approaches him. "Now, where were we?"

Stephen finds it hard to believe that this is the same Douglas. Gone is the all-American apple pie boy he knew. In his place, someone terrifying. Douglas stalks towards Stephen, he taps the bat on the desk as he passes it. "Please tell me, you're a screamer too." Douglas' blue eyes shine with malice as he speaks.

Stephen remains silent. He watches Douglas as he approaches. Stephen knows he will only get one shot at this and now he has Leanne to protect too. As Douglas moves closer, Stephen makes a show of struggling against his bindings. "You do look so beautiful when you're scared." There is a giggle in Douglas' voice. He is close now and reaches out a hand to touch Stephen's cheek.

As he reaches out, Stephen launches himself. His movement alone is enough to shock Douglas into inaction. Stephen lands on him and they fall to the ground. Stephen feels sluggish, the effects of the drugs still working on him, but he knows that this is his only chance. Brendan's only chance. As they struggle and fight, Stephen gains the upper hand and uses all his strength to land several blows to Douglas' face. He hears a crack as blood begins to pour from the American's nose. "You fuck!" Douglas grimaces as he tries to fend off Stephen's attack. In the fight, Douglas has dropped the baseball bat and he tries to reach out for it now. Stephen senses his purpose and shifts his weight, desperately grabbing for the bat. He reaches it with the tips of his fingers and quickly raises it and smashes a blow down upon Douglas. The American crumples beneath him, but Stephen hits him again hard to ensure he is no longer a threat. Stephen pushes himself away from Douglas; his breath comes fast and jagged.

Leanne peers out from behind the crate she is crouched behind. "Jesus, Stephen. Is he dead?" Her eyes are wide and unblinking.

"No, no. I don't think so. I had to do it though, you saw him didn't you? He was coming for me." Stephen looks down at the unmoving body lying on the floor; blood is beginning to pool around Douglas' head. Stephen stares at the crimson stain. Stephen looks up now and his eyes flick to the TV screen. Walker is pacing around Brendan. Brendan's head has fallen forward and he isn't moving. "Leanne. I need you to go and phone the police. Explain to them what's happened. They'll come. Brendan's a… he's a cop."

Leanne's already saucer-like eyes widen further. "A cop?" She questions. "I knew it! I knew there was something about him…"

"There isn't time. Please, Leanne. Go and get some help. Walker's going to kill him." Stephen looks again at the unmoving form of Brendan on the screen, like he's watching some terrifying film. "If he hasn't already." Stephen's voice shakes as he says the words.

Leanne races to the door and in a heartbeat she is gone and Stephen is alone once more. Stephen take a breath before he reaches down and takes the gun that Douglas has concealed in a holster under his jacket. Stephen is unfamiliar with guns and it feels heavy as he weighs it in his hand. He's never fired a gun before, but Walker has Brendan and so there's no time for hesitation. Stephen takes the gun firmly in both hands, squares his shoulders and walks out of the cellar.

Finding Brendan is not hard. As Stephen walks out into the corridor he sees only one other door to his left-hand side: it is slightly ajar. Stairs lead up to the club and Stephen can hear music still playing. Stephen approaches the door silently, he peers inside and is met by the sight of Brendan sitting, his white shirt stained with blood. Walker's back is to him as Walker stands in front of Brendan. Stephen's breath catches in his throat and he feels anger rise within him. He steps back and looks at the gun. To the side of the barrel is a catch. The safety. He quietly takes the safety off. Stephen hears Walker's voice, but cannot really hear what he is saying; he hears the occasional phrase "thought you could catch me…" "knew you were a cop…" Stephen's eyes widen as he begins to understand, Walker knows who and what Brendan is. He knows that Stephen has been in his office searching for evidence. He also knows now that Walker will stop at nothing to end this.

Stephen steadies himself. He is doing this for Joel, for Brendan and, he realises, for himself. He pushes through the door quickly and shouts out loudly. "Put your hands where I can see them, Walker!"

Walker turns and after an initial look of shock, smiles broadly at Stephen. "Well, well. What do we have here?"

"I said put your hands where I can see them." Stephen's voice is harsh. He points the gun at Walker, but his hands shake slightly.

Walker slowly raises his arms and moves to face Stephen. As he moves, he stands at Brendan's side. "What are you going to do? Shoot me?" Walker's voice is tinged with mockery.

Stephen answers levelly. "No. I'm waiting for the police to come. How do you think I got free? Leanne. She's calling them now."

Walker's eyes glint as he speaks. "The police are already here, though, aren't they, Stephen?" He motions Brendan's unmoving form.

Stephen doesn't answer instead he looks coldly at Walker. "You killed Joel. You're going to pay for what you did."

Walker shakes his head and laughs lightly. "I did, did I? And you have proof of this…"

"Shut up!" Stephen's voice is a shout. "I know you did it. Brendan told me and anyway… I found your secret safe in your office. I am betting there is something in there that you don't want anyone to see…"

"Maybe. Or maybe I've cleared it already." Walker's voice is a challenge.

"Maybe you have. The police can deal with you now." Stephen eyes Walker warily.

It all happens so fast that Stephen barely has time to register it. Walker suddenly drops his hands and pulls a gun out. He pulls Brendan's head back and pushes the gun against his temple. Stephen keeps his gun pointed at Walker, his eyes blinking and bile rising in his throat.

"Maybe I'll just kill him too." Walker glares at Stephen. "Put the gun down, Stephen. If you want him to live." Walker grinds the barrel against Brendan's head and Stephen hears Brendan murmur faintly.

"No." Stephen's voice is a whisper. "You're a liar." Stephen hears Walker's gun cock and he moves slightly forward. "No!"

"Drop the gun, Stephen or he dies." Walker's voice is controlled.

Stephen hesitates for a moment and begins to slowly lower his gun, Walker is watching him intently. "Stephen, don't do it…he'll kill you." Brendan's voice is a hoarse whisper. In shock, Stephen looks to Brendan and with his guard down; Walker seizes the moment and points his gun at Stephen. "No!" Brendan's voice rises. The two men face each other now; their guns are pointed.

Walker sneers at Stephen. "You think you're a match for me? You think you can save him. You don't have…" As he speaks, he fires the gun.

Stephen stands gazing at Walker as he slumps to the ground. A stain of red appears on the older man's shirt. His blue eyes stare out unblinking. The pool of red spreads out above the left hand-side of his chest. Brendan looks down to Walker and then to Stephen. "You ok, Stephen?"

Stephen nods his head and smiles. "Yes." Stephen stutters and staggers back a little.

"Stephen?" Brendan's voice is concerned.

"Brendan." Stephen looks to Brendan and suddenly drops to his knees; his eyes glaze over. As Stephen reaches out his hand to Brendan his fingers are stained scarlet.

"Stephen!" Brendan shouts now.

Stephen falls forward as his blood seeps out from his body.

"Stephen! Someone! Help us!" Brendan's shouts ring out.

Eight Weeks Later…

The birds are singing in the trees outside the cottage. Brendan busies himself in the kitchen. Toast pops in the toaster and he takes it dropping it quickly on to a plate as it burns his fingers. He begins to butter it.

"Smells good." Stephen speaks quietly as he walks gingerly into the kitchen.

Brendan spins around and faces Stephen now. "Hey! The deal was they let you out of the hospital early if you got proper rest." Brendan looks concerned, his face has healed well, but there is still some slight bruising.

Stephen smiles a slightly crooked smile. "I am resting. You won't let me do anything." He walks towards the counter and rests there for a moment. He is wearing a black t-shirt and his arm is heavily bandaged and in a sling.

"You have been shot, Stephen." Brendan's voice is warm and tender. "You are going to rest and get well, ok?" Brendan steps closer to Stephen and places a kiss on his lips.

Stephen smiles at Brendan and nods. "Ok, Dr Brady. Whatever you say." He moves to sit on the sofa.

"Shall we sit outside, get some fresh air?" Brendan begins to place the breakfast things on a tray before Stephen answers.

"That would be lovely." Stephen smiles at Brendan and slowly shuffles out into the garden. The sun feels warm on Stephen's face and he pauses for a moment as he feels it warm his skin. He pulls out one of the garden chairs and sits down slowly. Mitzeee curls herself around his legs and purrs as she brushes against him. "Hello you." Stephen says.

Brendan steps out with the tray and places it on the table. There is toast, bacon, scrambled eggs. Stephen finds that he does have an appetite. "This looks great. " He says and smiles at Brendan.

"You being here is great. I thought I'd lost you." Brendan's voice is low.

"I thought I might lose you to. I thought he… was going to kill you." Stephen smiles weakly.

Brendan reaches out and touches Stephen's cheek lightly. "You don't need to worry about him, Stephen. He's gone."

Stephen nods his head and attempts to smile. Brendan kisses him again and he feels his heart race. "That's so not fair when I'm like this." He motions to his bandaged arm.

Brendan growls against his lips slightly. "Well, eat and rest and then you'll be as good as new in no time." He smiles and kisses Stephen once more. Stephen parts his lips a little and feels Brendan's tongue swipe against his bottom lip. He feels his breath quicken.

Brendan pulls away from him. "Let's eat." He bites his lip and Stephen smiles at him as he adjusts his jogging trousers not very subtly.

After they have eaten, Brendan loads the tray and takes the things back into the kitchen. Stephen decides to sit outside and enjoy the sunshine. Walker is dead, Brendan's right. The police found Joel's phone in his safe along with a few other personal belongings. There were other things too. It seems that Joel was not Walker's only victim. There will be a trial, but Stephen does not fear this. Stephen shivers despite the sun. He closes his eyes and for one moment he sees a taunting face. Douglas. He was not in the basement when the police raided the club. At first, in the hospital Stephen had woken in a cold sweat every time he slept because of this. Here, with Brendan, he finds he can sleep and if he does wake he hears the faint sighs and breathing of Brendan sleeping next to him and feels his hand touch him and this soothes him back to sleep. His nightmares are fewer and less frequent. Stephen runs a hand through his hair and smiles again.

Suddenly, he hears his phone vibrate against the table. He shakes his head. Leanne has been texting and calling him everyday since he got out of hospital. He picks up the phone and reads the text. He looks puzzled as he sees an unrecognised number. His eyes grow wide as he reads the message. The phone slips from his grasp and falls to the floor.

'I'll be seeing you around, Stephen. D x'

The end…?


End file.
